What Wicked Games We Play
by Irishlass18
Summary: It was completely out of character for him to correspond with her,but he couldn't help himself once he found a type of kindred spirit.With her,he found a spark of life that he hadn't felt in years.Is hope yet alive?Then she's pulled into his dark world and all she represents is threatened.Through her rescue,he's forced to choose her or the violent life he's been thrust into.
1. The Wicked Games Website

_I hope that you enjoy the following story. Just so you know: this story takes place directly after James finishes up the dealings of QoS but before he tracks down Vesper's ex.

* * *

_

* * *

**Wicked Games**

It's hard enough falling in love these days but it seems you can never truly know whom to trust. There appears to be an ulterior motive in almost every action. Is this paranoia or is this just the result of betrayal in love?

Have you ever stripped away the armor around your heart only to be stabbed instead of embraced? Have you ever offered yourself to someone only to be deceived in the worst possible way? Have you ever loved only to lose, and bitterly as well? If you answered yes to any, or all, of the above questions then welcome to the "Wicked Games" website, a place where embittered ex's can meet others with similar stories—thus proving that they aren't alone in the world of bitter disappointment. Sounds like a bundle of joy doesn't it? Well this website holds an arsenal of articles and information dedicated to the subjects of betrayal, resentment, anger, jealousy, and the basic desire to bring your ex to their demise—or their new fancy to his/her demise.

This website was designed to reach out and, well maybe not help, so much as let you, the ex, know that you aren't alone in your pain and extreme anger—it is also designed to help keep you from committing a great crime against humanity and the law if you're currently feeling any such homicidal desires. There are trained professionals who monitor a number of the blogs on this site and are more than willing to listen to your complaints and perhaps even offer advice if you are so inclined to listen.

So if after reading this introduction you are spurred on by a desire to have someone listen to your anger and perhaps maybe even understand and empathize with your great pain then feel free to enter and browse the chats, blogs, articles, videos, etc. If you have information that you would like to share—i.e. articles, videos, other websites—then please email me that information. If it is appropriate, meaning it pertains to the subject matter of this site, it will be put up. Reviews and comments to any of the material is quite welcome, and encouraged!

If you wish to contact the creator and mastermind of this site then feel free to email me at btrydnmr. The name is Frankie.


	2. The First Exchange

_"__The world was on fire_

_No one could save me but you._

_Strange what desire will make foolish people do_

_I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you_

_And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you."

* * *

_

The last mission had taken a lot out of him. Mathis' death. Field's death. Developing mutual respect and understanding with Camille, and then having to leave with no promises. James swirled the contents of his glass as he moved from the now empty complimentary bar towards his bed. He'd only arrived that evening but M had had all the proper things supplied for him to write reports and send them off before heading after Vesper's ex's trail. He still had unfinished business there, business that was keeping him up at night.

James set his glass on the bedside stand and leaned against the headboard. He tapped his computer to life and idly glanced over part of his report. He looked at the clock and frowned. He'd been working on this bloody thing for over two hours and he still wasn't done yet. Too bad he couldn't hire someone to do this dirty work for him. He much preferred the adrenaline of the mission to the mundane, mind grating work of writing reports.

He minimized his report and clicked through the odd-ball site he'd found on a random Google search of "betrayal+wicked." The introduction of the top site had caught his attention, though he was sure it was only the added alcohol to his system that led him to actually browse through it. Some of the articles and blogs hit rather close to his current emotional state of being in regards to Vesper. He found that the commentary and replies made by the creator, Frankie, both amused and fascinated him. He couldn't help but show some interest in whom the creator was. What was his, or her, story? It was uncharacteristic of him, he knew that, but with alcohol and the knowledge that it was only a computer screen staring him in the eyes, he didn't seem to care. He opened the message box and started typing.

_To: btrydnmr_

_From: bSW3j07_

Message:

Though I don't often send off messages to complete strangers, I couldn't help it this time. Your site both intrigues me and has offered some amusement. Reading through your comments, I couldn't help but wonder about the person who created such an "arsenal" of items about romantic betrayals. What kind of relationship could create such a strong desire to build a "world" for others of similar pain? Who could become so obsessed with this subject? Thus, I couldn't help but imagine that perhaps you yourself have tasted the acidic moments of jealousy and extreme anger brought about by betrayal. I don't know if I care if you write back or not, I'm too tired to care. I just wanted to express my…appreciation for providing a few moments of entertainment in the face of mundane work.

J

He closed out the website and went back to his report. Over the next few days he was so buried in his work that he almost forgot about his half-drunken emailing stunt. Then…

_To: bSW3j07_

_From: btrydnmr_

Message:

J,

I apologize that it's taken me some time to reply to your email—I make it a habit to reply to every email put to me. I'm glad that you took an interest in my website; I hope that it aids you if you are ever in need of it. Heartbreak could cause such a desire, and "I" could become so obsessed with this subject. Yes, you are not the first to enquire after me—the creator of such a site—and I doubt that you will be the last. Yes, I have tasted the bittersweet moments of love and betrayal. If there is more to me that you are curious about I'm afraid you'll have to ask more direct questions, as I am only human, and humans are very complex indeed. It sounds as if you are just coming out of a break-up yourself, if that is indeed apathy that I picked out of your last two sentences. I'm not claiming to be a "shrink" by any means but I can empathize with a broken heart. If you ever feel the desire to "bitch" about your issue then feel free. Hope you have a good weekend.

Take care,

Frankie

* * *

James was amused by the email, mostly at the obviousness of Frankie being female—a guy would most definitely not offer to listen to his "bitching" in the way she did. Sitting down with another vodka martini later that night, he perused the site some more. After three more drinks, and a few sappy articles he felt his stomach churn at, he figured he'd tell this Frankie what he thought of some of the articles.

_To: btrydnmr_

_From: bSW3j07_

Message:

Frankie,

One of the articles, "How to Get Back the Heart They Stole," must've been written by a woman as it is filled with some of the most sappy advice I've ever heard. Surely it wasn't written for men! There is no way I'm about to sit down with a box of chocolates and watch, "An Affair To Remember!" In regards to your reply, I will ask one question: where are you from? Did my apathy really come through that strongly? I'm sorry; I was hoping my general distaste for humanity would be a bit more obvious. I was in a relationship, yes, but I wouldn't say we had a break-up that I'm bitter over. No its more along the lines of her preferring death over facing my confrontation over her betrayal.

J

He didn't know why he was being so candid with a complete stranger, a woman no less, but he again figured it was the alcohol. In either case, he didn't know the woman so it didn't matter one way or another.

He was surprised when a reply came barely an hour later.

_To: bSW3j07_

_From: btrydnmr_

Message:

J,

Actually it was written by friend of mine who is male, but is also homosexual, so thus you might discover where the more feminine advice came from. I believe he wrote it with homosexual and metrosexual men and women in mind. No, from what I've gathered from your emails, you are not the type to enjoy such a movie unless there was a specific reward for you in doing so. Do you at least enjoy chocolate? I am American, and since your email is based in the UK I'm going to take a wild guess and say that you're from the UK as well. More specifically I'm located in Atlanta Georgia. Have you ever been here? In reference to your apathy, yes it did come through quite strongly. I wouldn't be surprised if your breath smelled of alcohol while you wrote these emails. You general dislike of humanity? Well I think everyone feels that way once in a while; as a woman I'm guaranteed to feel that way at least once a month. I going to guess again and say that you are bitter and resentful that she died so suddenly—which I am sorry for. I'm going to also take another wild guess and say that you are having dreams about her as well. Am I right?

Hope you survive,

Frankie

* * *

James stared at the screen for a few moments, trying to figure out what he felt. Then after another swig of his drink he typed out a reply.

_To: btrydnmr_

_From: bSW3j07_

Message:

Frankie,

Why am I not surprised that it was a fruit who made such a fruity article. I do enjoy chocolate, though not to the degree that the grand majority of womankind seems to. I know the scientific reasons why women enjoy chocolate but still I don't think I'll ever completely understand some women's obsession with it. I am British, based in London actually, so good guess. No, I have not been to Atlanta, or Georgia for that matter. Although I travel extensively, my travels have yet to bring me there. Your skills of observation are astounding. Why should you be sorry? The bitch got what she deserved. And I wouldn't call them dreams as much as nightmares. What else about me do you seem to glean from these emails? My hair color and build perhaps? Can you predict my future? Tell me, please, I wish to know.

James

He figured after this many emails she was entitled to at least his full name. Again he didn't have to wait more than an hour before the reply came.

_To: bSW3j07_

_From: btrydnmr_

Message:

James,

A fruit? Really, is that necessary? I thought you were above name calling; guess I'm not ALWAYS right as you also referred to your ex as a "bitch." There is no possible way I could describe to you the immense joy and comfort womankind seems to glean from chocolate—myself included—it is the type of euphoric moment that can only be experienced and not described. I haven't been to London in years but I adore it! Though I do prefer the highlands of Scotland to any area in England, I did dearly enjoy my visits in the past. If you ever do come around the Atlanta area let me know and I'll gladly show you around, free of charge. I am not sorry for "the bitch" but I am sorry for the pain "the bitch" caused in your life. Nightmares eh? Oh they will continue for a long time—mine lasted for a good year and a half before they finally started to taper off. What else have I gleaned? Definitely not your hair color and build, though I can only guess that you are in some regards handsome. Your words evoke a general confidence that only the handsome and good looking, or those who believe themselves to be so, have. Other than that, I would guess that you are bitter, resentful, with violence brewing in your soul. I'd say "the bitch" and whatever else surrounded her death did a good number on you. You probably won't heal any time soon, especially not with your apparent tendency to harbor such hatred and anger. Is my frankness offensive to you? Well I am only being so frank because in bits of your reactions I see myself after my break-up and now that I've finally "kicked my arse" out of it I rather feel the need to be completely honest with you. Feel free to curse me to high heaven, cease your emails, or whatever you choose, but honesty is what I hold in my heart.

Sincerely,

Frankie

* * *

James felt irritation at first in regards to her reply and he didn't feel like replying. He shut down his computer and returned to work. He still needed to track a few more leads in order to find Vesper's ex. He glanced at the bedside stand and saw her necklace gleaming in the lamplight. He felt bile rise in his throat but swallowed the last of his drink to get rid of it. When he checked his email nearly a week later he was surprised to find another email.

_To: bSW3j07_

_From: btrydnmr_

Message:

James,

I don't know if you'll get this or not but it is the holidays here so I figured I'd wish you a Happy Thanksgiving, even though you are a Brit. Hope you are doing well.

Later, maybe,

Frankie

* * *

James was amused that she'd wish HIM a Happy Thanksgiving but it was this amusement that prompted him to finally email her back.

_To: btrydnmr_

_From: bSW3j07_

Message:

Frankie,

Yes, it is quite odd that you'd wish me a Happy Thanksgiving. I've been traveling for work and didn't have the time, or energy, to reply to your email earlier. It is taking longer than I would like but hopefully everything will come to fruitition soon. I am doing…well I'm surviving. I've got some vodka to keep me company, as I'm sure you're well aware of. Now, I will admit that your other email thoroughly irritated me. "The presumptuous bitch!" was my initial reaction—and its still lingering in my mind just so you know. However, once again, your powers of observation are dead on. I do harbor my anger and guilt from the situation with"the bitch." If you knew all the gory details I'm sure you'd probably understand a bit more why it is so difficult for me to let it all go while it is still so fresh. I must say, I do appreciate your frankness, and the courage you had to actually spell it out to me—risking whatever type of relationship this is. I can admire you for your gumption at least, if not for your actual opinion of me.

James

He didn't have to wait more than four hours before his computer beeped alerting him that there was a message waiting.

_To: bSW3j07_

_From: btrydnmr_

Message:

James,

It is good to hear from you again. Though your emails are usually bitter and full of anger they still make me smile. I'm glad my opinions and honesty haven't "scared" you off. That shows that you're more of a man than most others would be. Most others would skulk off to lick their egos, and though I'm sure you did for a wee bit, you at least came back to face my "fire" once more. I'm sorry its taking you longer than you originally planned to finish off work. I don't believe I've ever asked you what you did for a living. Come to think of it, I don't think we've ever exchanged any more personal information beyond where we're located. Is there a reason for this I wonder? For myself, I don't mind if you know more. However, you being the person that you are—from what I've learned from our past encounters—I can't help but believe that you have revealed about as much of yourself as you want to for the present. Am I right? Well even if you don't tell me any more about yourself you can ask me anything you like and I'll answer, if I feel like it. Hope you have a good weekend.

Later,

Frankie

* * *

James was surprised, again, at her honesty. He didn't know her, and she certainly didn't know him, but she appeared to be taking his emails and his opinions at face value. He couldn't come up with any reward for her acting this way, or for her trying to manipulate him into repling more. He was in fact, surprised, to find that somehow he was starting to enjoy her emails as well. In his world her words were like a rare breeze in a desert. Whoah...maybe he should lay off the vodka for a bit. He was waxing poetic. James smiled at the screen, though it didn't look like much of a smile. They rarely talked about anything beyond his relationship, or her opinions of him, and yet it felt almost cathartic to talk to her. Usually, after he emailed her, it felt as if for a little while Vesper wouldn't hover over him in memories, and his desire for the death of her ex became less strong. He sipped at his drink as he typed out his reply.

_To: btrydnmr_

_From: bSW3j07_

Message:

Frankie,

In my line of work more personal information can often be used against you so it has become habit for me not to reveal anything more personal than my name and such. Habits are hard to break, and some habits should never be broken. However, I wouldn't mind revealing to you my favorites—for example favorite food, music, etc. They seem harmless enough, and it is not likely you could manipulate me into a dangerous situation merely from knowing what my favorite song is. Feel free to reveal the same information to me as well, if you feel like it that is. Your "fire" isn't too hot, so you needn't worry about it scaring me away. I've faced many dangerous "fires" before and yours is quite charming in comparison.

James

He didn't know why he even initiated the sharing of "favorites" it was completely uncharacteristic of him; maybe it was his own curiosity about her that prompted him to offer a little bit of himself in return. No matter the reason he wasn't surprised when her reply came barely an hour later.

_To: bSW3j07_

_From: btrydnmr_

Message:

James,

Well I won't bother myself with trying to guess what you do for a living--you apparently don't want to share that. My favorites? Well that is quite the list there my friend, however I shall do my best to give you a brief synopsis of some of my more frequent ones. Favorite season: summer. Favorite food: pizza of any kind. Favorite drink: Green tea. Favorite movie: The Boy in the Stripped Pajamas. Favorite book: Timeline by Michael Crichton. Favorite song: Wicked Games by Chris Isaak. I can't think of any others in particular so if you want more you'll have to ask for them specifically. I'm glad my "fire" may be considered charming, though sometimes I wish I was more intimadating, it would make life easier in some ways.

Take care,

Frankie

* * *

James laughed at her email but stopped almost as soon as he laughed. That was one of the first times he'd laughed since…He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. There was nothing wrong with him laughing and it was about bloody time anyway.

_To: btrydnmr_

_From: bSW3j07_

Message:

Frankie,

Favorite season: summer. Favorite food: good food. Favorite drink: vodka martini, shaken not stirred. Favorite movie: yet to be determined but it is definitely NOT "An Affair to Remember". Favorite book: not quite what you'd call a voracious reader so I don't have a favorite. Favorite song: I must say I'm quite the fan of Wicked Games as well and at the moment I can't think of any other songs since I have it playing so we'll leave it at that for now. How long did it take before you laughed after your breakup?

James

* * *

_"No, I don't want to fall in love_

_[This love is only gonna break your heart]_

_No, I don't want to fall in love_

_[This love is only gonna break your heart]_

_With you_

_With you."_


	3. The Second Exhange

_"What a wicked game you play_

_To make me feel this way_

_What a wicked thing to do_

_To let me dream of you_

_What a wicked thing to say_

_You never felt this way_

_What a wicked thing to do_

_To make me dream of you."

* * *

_

James didn't hear from Frankie for close to two weeks, and despite how much he knew it was silly, he still felt a little worried about the lack of communication. Then, when he finally did receive a letter, he scoffed at his own excitement. He didn't know this woman beyond a few cyber conversations so it was downright ridiculous that he'd felt even a twinge of concern or excitement. Maybe the alcohol was staying in his system longer these days.

_From: btrydnmr_

_To: bSW3j07_

Message:

James,

I'm sorry it's been so long since I last wrote you. I don't even remember what we were talking about. In fact, I don't remember much of anything right now. The day after I received your email I ran into my ex, and I quite literally mean ran. I always go jogging in the morning and walking in the evening in a park near my apartment. There's a small pond where swans and Canadian geese fight for dominance, with the ducks playing peace keepers. Lots of little flower beds—even a butterfly sanctuary. Anyway, describing it is not the point. I was going on my usual morning route when out of no where there's this man standing in front of me and I ran into, and over, him. It wasn't until we were both standing that we realized who the other was. I'm just thankful that he didn't have his new fiancé with him—that would've made the situation so much more horrible. In any case he tried to do the whole chit chat thing of "how are you and what have you been up to" but I'm not good at those conversations, not when my heart races and my body shakes every time I see him. I've healed since that creep but…have you ever been vulnerable towards someone no matter how many times he/she broke your heart or disappointed you? It's like they are a virus that just comes back when you think you've got it beat. This past week, or two, I can't really remember how many it's been, I've buried myself in work and movies trying to distract myself from both my memories and depression. It's worked for the most part. I just wanted to apologize for not getting back to you sooner. I do hope you are getting along nicely, and that your nightmares have started to ease a bit.

Talk to you later,

Frankie

* * *

James felt sorry for her, who wouldn't, and he could also empathize with her. No matter how many times he got drunk, how many women he'd used and tossed aside, he still hurt inside from where Vesper had managed to curl around his heart and squeeze out whatever love he'd had inside him. She said there'd been something inside him worth saving…well she'd killed that part of him with her betrayal. He had felt some of it re-kindle slightly with his friendship/mentorship with Camille, and again with his friendship with Mathis. But again, both those people were no longer a part of his life either. So whatever had been worth saving was safely buried away now. He couldn't think about his own humanity when he was so close to finding Vesper's ex.

_To: btrydnmr_

_From: bSW3j07_

Message:

Frankie,

I am indeed sorry that you "ran" into your ex. I'm also sorry that you were as upset as you said you were over the encounter. Where I guess I'm lucky that my "ex" is dead, you are cursed that yours is still alive. Where mine only haunts my dreams, yours has the likelihood of haunting your days. Looking at our situations in this light I think I'm the luckier of the two of us. Yes, my "ex" did quite a number on me and I'm still not quite over it, but at least I don't have to worry about running into her on the street one day with her…lover with her. That was something I failed to mention. She betrayed me for her lover. Sorry, this message wasn't supposed to be about me but more to consol you in your hardship. Have I ever been vulnerable to someone like that? I would say my "ex" if she were still living. Even the memories of her have my gut wrenching sometimes. I can't seem to get drunk enough, mean enough, of far enough away from her presence. So in that regard I understand what you're saying with the whole "virus" bit. While I'm glad you've managed to distract yourself from your memories and depression, doesn't that defeat the purpose? I think I read in a few of the articles YOU put up that burying yourself in work and such only prolongs the pain you WILL have to face sooner or later. Am I right or did I misread those little tidbits of wisdom?

Sincerely,

James

James was thankful that her reply was speedy again and only came a few hours later.

* * *

_To: __bSW3j07_

_From: btrydnmr_

Message:

James,

I suppose it takes one to know one. I could only get over my little pity party, face the piper, and pull myself back into the saddle after a cynical bastard such as yourself pointed out MY wrong. Thank you. I earnestly mean that, just so know you. Yes, I would say that you are lucky that your ex is dead. But I would also say that I'm lucky that mine is alive because one of these days I'm going to get the gumption to finally face him and tell him "what for." You see, I never did quite tell him everything. I never told him how much he hurt me. I never explained to him the anger and pain that is still, sadly, festering in the deep recesses of my heart. That is part of why I haven't been able to have a REAL relationship ever since our relationship exploded three years ago. Oh I've had my flings but nothing that has lasted longer than a month or maybe two. Afraid of commitment am I? No, I actually am not. I still have the "little girl" dreams of getting married and having a good marriage and life while growing old with my husband and life partner. However, until I get my ex completely out of my heart and mind, face my past feelings and fears and deal with them, I won't be able to move forward. I don't want to enter into a relationship while a portion of my heart is still unavailable— because it's still affected by the bastard who destroyed it. Does that make sense? Perhaps that is what you're going through. Have you, perchance, entered into various flings with women you can easily dominate and toss aside? I wouldn't be surprised if you said yes. It would be in your nature to do so. That is how you are trying to heal, if you are indeed doing that. However, her presence won't dissipate any more or less with that kind of behavior. It takes a level head, time, and effort. I have to practically kick my arse to face the last of my issues. Perhaps, maybe, you could do the same. Maybe by New Years we can toast each other to a new year without the burden of our ex's on our hearts. Do you think that's too lofty of a goal?

Your friend,

Frankie

* * *

Surprisingly he didn't feel irritated by anything that she said, even when she hit home with some of her more poignant remarks. She was right, he was level-headed, and sober, enough to realize that. However, he did feel that she was probably asking a bit much of him if she thought he'd be completely over Vesper by New Years. It was only a week away from Christmas and she was hoping he'd be over the one woman he'd allowed himself to become vulnerable to by New Years? He knew he was a strong, bastardly, individual who was equally considerate and unfeeling. However, he knew his own limitations. Her mention of toasting each other at New Years gave him an idea. His trail to Vesper's ex had grown cold and his contacts were all looking for new leads, which left him with little more to do than twiddle his thumbs. The more he thought about the idea the more he felt committed to it. It was a bad idea, he knew it was, however it didn't keep him from suggesting it in his reply.

_From: bSW3j07_

_To: btrydnmr_

Message:

Frankie,

Thank you for your blunt remarks and honesty. They always help keep my ego in check. Sometimes I wonder if you are the conscience I lack in myself. Maybe I should keep you around more often so you can quite literally smack my hand whenever I start to reach into the "cookie jar" of badness. What say you? Do you think you could be my conscience? Or do you think that job would be too much for you? Any lesser woman I'm afraid would collapse at the mention of the job but for some reason I get the feeling that you'd actually enjoy putting me in my place so often. I earnestly hope that you do get the "gumption", and soon. Perhaps before Christmas? Maybe this is just the "bastard" in me but maybe that could be your Christmas present to your charming ex. Tell him how much of a true arsehead that he was to you, pour out that festering muck that you say is still in your heart towards him, and leave him with a smile and a, "Merry Christmas you bastard." I think that sounds like a bloody good plan to me. I could always coach you on how to tap into your own inner "bastard" if you like. Yes, you are correct in your assumption, and level-headed guess, that I'm dominating and using women. However, they aren't all being used and dominated just to ease the memories and depression my ex has given me. Some of them are actually part of the job. Believe me or not, I don't actually find pleasure in being a bastard to every woman I meet. Sometimes I'm even tempted to be a considerate gentleman, though with bastardly tendencies of course. You, I'll confess, tempt me to be "kind." So needless to say I'm glad that you don't live near me because then you'd completely ruin the bastardly, womanizing, aloof reputation that I've got going for me. It helps protect me from the women that could tempt me to be kind and only allows close the women who don't mind being mistreated. Does that make sense? No, I know that doesn't excuse any behavior on my part, but in the world that I live in, it's a survival tactic. Now you mentioned toasting each other at New Years…would you be interested in actually being able to see each other as we toasted? I will be on leave during New Years and if you are inclined to say yes I could always cross the "pond" to the States. What say you? Is my idea bad or just horrible?

Sincerely,

James

He couldn't believe he actually started tapping his fingers on his desk as he waited for her reply. To keep himself from doing so he got up and went to a nearby cafe to eat dinner. When he came back he resisted the urge to immediately check his email and instead watched a little evening news, made himself a drink, and then sat down at his computer.

* * *

_From: btrydnmr_

_To: bSW3j07_

Message:

James,

I'm afraid I'm conscience enough for myself. I'm already so obsessed with right and wrong and trying hard to be in the right that I'd probably drive you bonkers, not to mention myself. Thank you for your belief in my "strength of character" though—as I'm going to assume that is what you were meaning. I actually REALLY like your plan of "attack" for my ex. I'm actually going to write out everything that's in my heart right after this message, edit it, read and re-read, add to it, and memorize it. Okay, I was an English minor in college and I'm a perfectionist to boot so laugh all you want but that is how I'm going to do it. I'll take some cookies; I'm already baking some for my neighbors and colleagues, and deliver the message. I'll even leave him with a, "Merry Christmas," though I'll leave out the "bastard" bit—I don't often curse in conversations and that would be out of character for me and he'd know that. Bravo James! You just helped me find my inner "bastard" because I would have put it off until after the holidays then put it off because of work and yada yada. Now as to your "womanizing" reputation and the reputation you've created out of self-protection…I am sorry that you have felt the need, and perhaps there really is one, to do so. I would never want to be in a vocation or a world that I needed to create an alter ego that was the complete opposite of who I truly am. Though I wouldn't say the bastardly, womanizing, aloofness is completely the opposite of who you are. I think you have a bit of bastard in your soul, though it is endearing to me—believe it or not. And it isn't because I like to be mistreated. It is actually because it amuses me, at least in you. In nearly all others, save for family members, it is disgusting and frustrating. Does that make sense? Funny how we keep saying that to each other. I think from now on we can forego that saying, because I firmly believe that we do understand each other, unless of course you state otherwise. I am flattered that I "tempt" you to be kind and considerate. I suppose I'm glad as well that I don't live near you, at least for your sake. Wouldn't want to damage that little reputation you've got going for you. Do you sense the sarcasm my dear, because believe me its there. Now as to your "horrible" idea of New Years together…I will be honest that the idea of actually meeting you face to face gives me some reservation. Not because I'm afraid you're actually a murdering psychopath but more because I'm afraid that the friendship and understanding we've managed to develop through these messages will be lacking once we're in person. Has that ever happened to you before? Well it has to me and I don't want you to be disappointed just as much as I don't want to be disappointed myself. Let me think some more on the idea and get back to you with my firm answer by tomorrow okay?

Your friend,

Frankie

* * *

James was quite excited just with the fact that she was considering his idea--and he frowned at his own excitement. He did understand her fears and even though he'd deny it out rightly, he himself felt the same fear as well. Her messages made him laugh more than he had in many days and it felt that she was actually sitting across the table from him talking and laughing with him. It had been a long time since he'd felt such warmth in a relationship. Did he think there was the possibility of more with her? James refused to think about that. He only wanted to maintain what he had so far and wait.

_From: bSW3j07_

_To: btrydnmr_

Message:

Frankie,

I'll let you mull over the suggestion until tomorrow, but then I demand an answer, for my sake and the sake of my wallet—the longer we wait the more expensive the ticket will be. Though I won't admit to being poor or rich I will admit to the irritation of over-priced airline tickets. You're actually going to take cookies to the bloody arse? Please tell me you're going to put arsenic or something of that nature in them! How could you have found your inner "bastard" and still say you'll take him cookies? If you do take him cookies at least make one batch just for him and instead of using sugar use salt. Oh and believe me, I'm not surprised that you are a perfectionist—I'd dare say you are a bit obsessive compulsive as well. Now is that English literature or English grammar? What do you think of Shakespeare? While it is odd that you find my more bastardly characteristics amusing I won't say that I'm offended or surprised by that—it seems like you to be that way. Yes, I sensed the sarcasm. What is it with you Americans and sarcasm? I don't think I've met one American who didn't say something sarcastic to me. At least we Brits have a dry sense of humor and good wit. You Americans only seem to come up with slap stick humor and sarcasm. In any case, I will admit that I do enjoy my fair share of Abbott and Costello.

Sincerely,

James

She replied after he went to sleep and when he woke up the next morning he was pleased to read her reply.

* * *

_From: btrydnmr_

_To: bSW3j07_

Message:

James,

I adore Laurel and Hardy as well as Abbott and Costello. When you come for New Years we should have a comic duo movie marathon. Did you catch that? I said "when" not "if" so there is your answer. I decided to have mercy on your poor wallet and tell you now. I've faced my fears and decided that if in real life you lack that spark that so amuses and intrigues me that you have here then that is a shame but no worries. No, I will not poison his cookies or use salt, I'm actually going to decorate them very nicely. I know you're wondering why and I'll explain a little of the intricacies of the female sex to you. I want him to miss my cooking, to see that even though he's an ass I still made something sweet and nice to remind him of my good character and make HIM miss ME. It is the bitch in me, and all women would understand my reasons and applaud most likely. So you see you have encouraged the "bastard" in me while I also relished the bitch that was already there. Yes, I do suffer from OCD in different areas of my life but I find that it helps more than hinders me. I think Shakespeare is over-rated actually. He is good, yes, but there are others that are just as good if not better than him. So it was English grammar, I am an assistant high school English teacher. Oh and what is it with you Brits and talking, walking, and acting as if there was a hot poker stuck up your arse? Hm? Let's not quarrel over our cultural differences my dear. Instead, let us look forward to that marathon of wonderful comic acts.

Sincerely,

Frankie

* * *

James laughed so hard he nearly cried. Her message wasn't even that funny but it still made him laugh. He couldn't help but wonder what exactly it was about the message, and her, that made him so eager and able to laugh. He also wondered why now, instead of before, he wanted to know more about her. Whereas before he wanted to keep the distance for both their sakes, namely his own, now he wanted to know more about her. He wondered about her OCD habits and if they coincided with his own more obsessive quirks. These idle wonderings of course couldn't be good for him, or her, so he merely ignored them when they came and tried to forget them when they went. He booked his flight and hotel a few hours later and went about informing the right people of his plans. M actually sound pleased, well at least as pleased as she could ever sound, of his intention of taking at least a week off the case for some R and R.

_From: bSW3j07_

_To: btrydnmr_

Message:

Frankie,

So tomorrow night is the big night, are you more excited or more nervous? Knowing you as the person that you are I would say you are more inclined to be nervous. Oh and thank you for explaining the more fascinating and strange intricacies of the female sex. I honestly think that no man will every completely understand women and any man who says he does is actually a woman in drag. I'll have you know that there is nothing stuck up my arse—though that description does do justice to a number of my colleagues. I nearly laughed at the office just a few hours ago when I was talking with my superior because that description came to mind. Thank you. I bought my ticket and I should be arriving at the Atlanta airport on the 29th around 1730, or 5:30 as you may know it. Oh, and I'm not surprised that you are an English high school teacher. I'd wager that more than one of your male students has developed a crush on you and that you always have them laughing in class. I will agree that while Shakespeare is not the best though he is quite good. I am a fan of his tragedies, most especially Hamlet. Can you guess why?

Your friend,

James

* * *

_"And I don't wanna fall in love_

_[This love is only gonna break your heart]_

_And I don't want to fall in love_

_[This love is only gonna break your heart]"_


	4. The Third Exchange

_"World was on fire  
No one could save me but you  
Strange what desire will make foolish people do  
I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you  
I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you"

* * *

_

He didn't hear from her until the next day. Considering she had her "big" night of telling off her ex, James was more than a little eager to hear from her. He wondered how she felt now that she'd faced him, if she even went through with it, and what she'd do now that it was over. So it wasn't surprising, even to him that his face spread into a wide smile when he saw a message from her on the evening of the 26th.

_From: btrydnmr_

_To: bSW3j07_

Message:

James,

A belated Merry Christmas to you! So much has happened since I last "spoke" to you! Yes, I did face my ex, in case you're anxiously bouncing in your seat over that bit of information. What has delayed my telling you the details has been his reaction actually. Well, let me tell you what I did to him then I'll tell you his reaction. I baked the Christmas cookies like I said I would, taking extra care to make sure they were perfect looking and tasting—my 80 some odd year old neighbor is my taste tester I'll have you know and he used to be a baker—I even decorated them with the help of my ten year old neighbor—she's quite the artist really, the next Picasso I'm sure. Anyway, after I delivered most of the cookies to friends and coworkers I made my way over to my ex's. I wasn't surprised to find only him and his fiancé home—his family lives in Kentucky. His fiancé must not know who I am, or the extent of my relationship with my ex because she was really quite cordial and almost happy to see me. Tried to serve me tea and everything! I declined of course, told her I just wanted to give them some Christmas cookies and a special Christmas message for Jake—my ex's name. She must've understood that it was unfinished business because she used the excuse of putting the cookies on a suitable platter and gave us time alone—I hate to say it but I actually think I like his fiancé. Anyway, he tried to do small talk but I cut him off, not something I usually do mind you. That surprised him enough to shut him up, thankfully. In that time span I told him exactly what I told you I would. I told him about the pain he'd put me through, how he'd always treated me like shit , and how I hoped and prayed he'd grow up so he wouldn't put his lovely fiancé through the same hell he'd put me through because no woman deserved that—not even the biggest of bitches. Yes, I used the word bitch and bastard, both once! Aren't you proud of me? He certainly was surprised; I swear his jaw nearly touched the floor. It was quite a delightful sight. I don't think I've ever made him speechless and needless to say it was quite gratifying watching him twitch in his chair in confusion and astonishment at my newfound confidence and bluntness. When I finished, his fiancé miraculously reappeared with cookies. I shared a cookie with them, chit chatting with her about the weather and plans for New Years, and then I left. I never once acted nervous or fluttery like I normally would. I think it's because I kept thinking of you. That may sound silly but its true. I knew you wouldn't want me to give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm so I kept that in mind and that helped keep my back straight when I wanted to slouch. Anyway, today he phoned me to ask if we could meet up for a coffee at Starbucks. Curious as to what he could possibly have to say I agreed—curiosity didn't kill this cat but it made her burning mad. The bastard hasn't learned his lesson! He told me that my sudden confidence and change has reminded him of how much he misses me and wants me back. I asked about his current fiancé and the bloody git said she didn't have to know about us picking back up! The nerve! Needless to say he found a nice lapful of extra hot espresso in his lap before I left without giving him an answer—well that was my answer but I didn't speak to him again. So I've spent the day shopping as a reward to myself. I called his fiancé and told her about what happened—figured I owed to the girl since she was so nice to me. She thanked me and told me to have a nice holiday. I don't know what's happened between them but I'm sure he's gotten much of the same treatment I gave him, at least if the girl is as good as I thought her to be. Anyway, how are you? I hope you had a nice Christmas. Mine was wonderful, as you have seen! Only three more days until you come. I will admit to being excited—and I know that makes me sound like a freckled teenager but it's been ages since I've had visitors. I don't have any family to speak of, I only have a great aunt who lives up north, so to be able to spend New Years with someone "special" will be a nice treat for me.

Hope your well,

Frankie

* * *

James laughed and nodded emphatically as he read her email, delighting in her newfound backbone and her decision to pour hot coffee on the bastard's lap. She was right in the fact that he was proud of her for cursing at least twice—she could deal with a few more expletives but he figured she'd learn from him. In all, her email made him quite happy, uncharacteristically so. He attributed it to a few spiked eggnogs too many at the office party. He could've gone home with more than one of the women he'd seen there but he hadn't been interested. Instead he'd been thinking about Frankie and how she'd handled the situation. Strange how the woman was now affecting his sex life. He shook his head and shrugged before writing her back.

_From: bSW3j07_

_To: btrydnmr_

Message:

Frankie,

I must first congratulate you on your newfound freedom from the chains of bondage to the bastard of an ex you had. Bravo! Now I must ask: what are you going to do for an encore? You had me grinning with pride and chuckling with delight at your tale. I'm glad it all worked out for you, and I do hope that his fiancé had enough backbone herself to give him what-for like he deserves. In regards to my own Christmas, it was pleasant enough. No nightmares. I even went to the office party, which surprised nearly all of my colleagues—one of them nearly fainted I'm sure when I complimented her dress and even danced with her with a smile on my face. I didn't make nearly as many passes or innuendos at the women and one of coworkers asked if I was feeling alright. I could only laugh because I could just imagine you standing beside me telling him I was only just becoming alright. I'm glad you're excited about my visit; it really wouldn't be as much fun if you were dreading it now would it? You never told me you didn't really have any family. That's something we have in common actually. I have no family either. I guess this New Years we can have each other. Bloody hell! That sounded way too sentimental for me! What have you done to me woman? I swear your turning me into a bloody woman!

Worrying about his masculinity,

James

* * *

She replied only two hours later. He was smiling the entire time he read her reply.

_From: btrydnmr_

_To: bSW3j07_

Message:

James,

You really shouldn't worry about your masculinity. I'm sure you still have enough of the bastard lurking inside you to make up for any sentimentality I inspire. Although that last bit of your message made me nearly snort coffee when I read it. Oh I just figured you should probably know what I looked like since we've never exchanged photos or last names or the like. Since you are arriving tomorrow night and I will be picking you up. I am around five foot six, long mousy brown hair which I usually have tied in a knot since I get hot easily—but I don't have the desire to cut my hair since I look like a silly pixie with short hair, green eyes—which people tease me about since they are quite large and a little close together, I have a Germanic jawline and nose so that is rather easy to notice as well; and you won't miss me because although the previous are quite normal, the large scar running from my left temple across my nose down to my right cheek bone is not as normal—compliments of my ex actually. I'll wear a black shirt and white skirt and I'll wait at the baggage claim for you. Does that sound acceptable? Anyway, I hope your plane isn't too bumpy and that you don't get airsick—I do. Oh and my full name is Francesca O' Connor.

Sincerely,

Frankie

* * *

James enjoyed her letter until she mentioned the scar. He was surprised at the amount of anger he felt inside him when she mentioned it was from her ex. He couldn't help but wonder how it had happened. An accident? Drunken or sober? Purposeful punishment? He only knew that if he ever met the man he'd give him a scar of his own to compliment the one he'd given Francesca. James smiled as he repeated her name aloud. Funny how Frankie was better suited to her than Francesca, though the O' Connor could remain either way. Irish. Not surprising in the least. Maybe her parents had been full blooded immigrants. German and Irish? That was an interesting, and rather explosive, mix.

_From: bSW3j07_

_To: btrydnmr_

Message:

Francesca,

Let me guess, you prefer being called Frankie? I will admit that Francesca did throw me off, as I feel that Frankie much better suits your personality. The O' Connor is perfect though; you do seem quite Irish to me. Do you perhaps have any Scottish or British blood in you? I'm around six foot, sandy blonde hair, and blue eyes--yes all of that is rather average. I'll be wearing a black suit and blue oxford with a silver tie. Do you mind me asking about the scar? I'd really rather know what happened instead of coming up with horrific images in my mind that make me want to commit murder to a man I've never met. You must realize by now that I don't take too kindly to men who mistreat women—unless of course that man is me. So hypocritical of me isn't it? In any case, I will see you in about twenty hours or so.

Sincerely,

James Bond

* * *

James checked his email once before he left for the plane but there was no response from Frankie. That didn't bother him; there was the time change and everything. He merely shrugged and grabbed his bag before shutting down his computer and tucking it away. He left his flat with a smile on his face. He was looking forward to an interesting holiday with an interesting woman whom he could surprisingly call a friend.

* * *

_"No I don't wanna fall in love  
[This love is only gonna break your heart  
No I don't wanna fall in love  
[This love is only gonna break your heart]  
With you  
With you"_


	5. Not The Expected Welcome

After a long and boring flight James was looking forward to seeing Frankie's smiling face. He let his mind wander as he walked towards customs, his carry-on in one hand and his suit coat draped over the other—he'd discovered that the airport was still a bit stuffy despite it being the winter. He also discovered that people really did have interesting accents down South, though not all had the same accent. Some people sounded more "educated" while others sounded very much like the people from movies and sitcoms that everyone laughed at. He smiled slightly as he continued to weave through the crowd.

James wondered what her voice would sound like; if it was husky or higher pitched—for some reason he assumed husky. He wondered if she would have an accent or if she would be one of the more "educated" types. He wondered about her smile; if it made her eyes crinkle around the edges or if she had dimples. He smiled to himself as he recalled her description of herself, his already quite active imagination filling in all the blanks.

He wiped the smile from his face as he drew closer to the customs agent. He'd long ago learned to trust his gut and his gut was telling him that the two men wearing near matching suits standing just off to the side of customs were waiting for him. He wasn't disappointed. Almost as soon as the customs agent read his passport he nodded to the two men and they stepped forward.

"Mr. Bond I presume?" The taller of the two agents held his passport, flipped through it briefly, before handing it back to James.

James nodded, "Yes. What can I do for you gentlemen?"

The agents looked at each other before looking back to him. The one holding his passport handed it back before gesturing with his arm for James to follow them off to the side.

"I'm Agent Philips and this is Agent Ennis of the CIA," Agent Philips spoke as they moved closer to one of the doors leading to an interviewing room, "we were informed of your arrival by your office in London."

Agent Ennis held the door open, "Your superiors guaranteed their full cooperation, which in turn I believe would mean yours as well."

James let out a fake chuckle, "That depends on what I'm cooperating with. I haven't been informed of any impending mission since I left London."

The agents waited until they were all seated around the metal table before Agent Philips spoke again, "We were informed of your dealings with one Dominic Greene of Greene Planet."

"What of it?" James resisted the urge to shift in the uncomfortable seat.

"There has been an incident here that we believe is directly linked to your dealings with Mr. Greene and his organization." Agent Philips continued.

"What incident?" James really hated when people refused to just spell it all out together instead of waiting for a response after every statement.

"Mr. Greene had a half-brother of the name Jake Greene living here in the Atlanta area. He was the head of the American sector of Greene Planet." James felt his stomach churn at the name, almost already knowing what was coming. "After the discovery of Greene's body, Jake Greene launched an investigation to discover his brother's killer."

"Greene was killed by his own people, surely his brother, who is also a part of the same organization, would know that." James scoffed.

Agent Ennis leaned forward, "Jake Greene is a part of the Quantum organization, yes, however he does not blame the organization for his brother's death. He blames you, Mr. Bond."

"How did he find out about my part in Greene's death?" James hardened his voice.

"It is a well known fact that there was a leak in MI6 as well as the CIA in regards to the Quantum organization, and both parties are only just now discovering those leaks and filling them in." Agent Ennis continued almost as if James hadn't spoken. "We believe it was one of those leaks that informed Jake Greene of your hand in his brother's death, as well as your intention of visiting this area at this time."

"How do you know so much about Greene's movements? Just monitoring him couldn't give you this much."

Agent Ennis frowned, "We had someone on the inside keeping us abreast of all his dealings. Greene wasn't any the wiser up until yesterday."

James again resisted the urge to shift in his seat, "So that is the incident? I don't see how your agency loosing a man involves me."

"Are you acquainted with a Miss Francesca O' Connor?" Agent Philips watched him closely as he spoke and James was careful not to show any emotion at the mention of Frankie's name.

"You both already know that my intention was to visit Miss O' Connor." James didn't feel like playing games. "What does she have to do with Jake Greene?"

"Well it seems that Jake Green and Miss O' Connor were in a relationship three years ago, you may already be aware of that. There is no apparent record of Miss O' Connor knowing of Greene's dirty work but despite her ignorance of his true nature their relationship ended badly and they parted ways. As recently as a month ago Miss O' Connor and Greene have been seen together a number of times, the most recent being a few days after Christmas. We have reason to believe that Greene orchestrated their meetings in order to discover her involvement with you." James felt his blood freeze at Agent Ennis' words. "Miss O' Connor disappeared from her apartment yesterday evening and has not been seen or heard from since."

James let himself frown, "So your man disappeared around the same time as Miss O' Connor then?"

Both agents nodded. James felt his blood boil. He should have known that getting involved with someone so…normal would only come back to haunt him. Yes, Frankie had been involved in the whole mess of the Quantum organization, but she'd been ignorant of it and thus could still be considered an innocent in his eyes. She had nothing at all to do with his past missions. She was just a bystander suddenly thrust into the dark, twisted world he was used to.

"What does your agency want me to do? It sounds like you have grounds enough to go after him." James shoved the fears of what was happening to Frankie aside.

Agent Philips sighed, "Well since technically all the information we have on Greene isn't exactly legal, and our knowledge of Miss O' Connor's kidnapping is also hush hush, we have our hands tied in red tape and lazy superiors."

Agent Ennis leaned forward, "Thus we were rather hoping you could take care of Greene. We give you what info we have on him, you track him down, take care of him, leaving him alive for us to question of course, get back Miss O' Connor, and that's that. No need for red tape and long reports."

"So you would just let me run around the country trying to track down Greene, doing anything necessary to get him?" James sounded surprised but in reality he wasn't, this was typical CIA—let someone else do their dirty work.

Both Agents nodded but Agent Philips spoke, "If you were questioned by any local police force we would explain your status as a diplomatic representative from your government cooperating in a high profile case and you'd be released easily enough."

James looked at both agents before taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, "I suppose MI6 will be supplying the necessary funds and weaponry?"

"Of course, though you will have the aid of the CIA if necessary." said Agent Ennis.

James nodded. "That's kind of you." He kept the sarcasm out of his voice—finding it ironic that he even used sarcasm after giving Frankie a hard time about it.

"Unless you have any other questions I think we can adjourn to your hotel where we will have all the necessary information faxed to you within the hour."

They led him out to the baggage claim where they waited for him to collect his bags. They would give him one day of preparation but his new "mission" would officially begin after that. They would extend his visitors visa if need be, no problem.

Once all was settled, his "official" briefing on Greene over with, and the agents gone, James finally sat down and let the worry he'd been keeping at bay sink into his mind. He wondered how Frankie was, if she was hurt, if Greene had tried anything…James clenched and unclenched his fists as the images of previous missions and abused women passed through his mind, this time with Frankie as the victim of each crime. The phone ringing spared him from further mental torture.

"Bond."

"You were briefed on the situation I take it?" M's voice was probably the last thing he'd wanted to hear at the moment.

He sighed, "Yes, ma'am I was."

There was a pause before M spoke again, "What is your relationship with this woman?"

"Is that your business?" James couldn't help but growl a bit into the phone.

"Everything that involves my agents is my business. I want to know if I'm going to have to cover you back again when you go off on a personal vendetta against this Greene." Her voice was firm and he knew he'd just pushed a nerve best left alone.

James leaned back against the headboard, surprised at how well he was keeping his anger in check. "I have been corresponding with her and we have a developed mutual respect." James felt funny saying it aloud though he knew the truth in his heart.

"So you were going to America to meet this woman for New Years?" M asked, though he knew she didn't expect him to answer since they both knew it to already be the truth. Neither spoke for a moment until M spoke again. "Keep me posted, Bond, and let me know if you need us to come in and get you."

James shook his head, "Yes ma'am." He could imagine M nodded her head, her lips pursed into that nearly permanent frown.

"And remember Bond, she isn't from your world." He did his best to not throw the phone across the room. "Even if you do manage to get her out, you have no business involving her in your life."

He wasn't about to go into THAT discussion with her, she wasn't his mother after all. "Good night ma'am."

"Good night Bond. Don't get yourself killed; England still needs you." She hung up and James lightly replaced the receiver though he really wanted to chuck it out the window and watch it smash into tiny bits on the pavement below.

He stared at the receiver for a few moments more before he slid out of bed and walked over to his computer. He sat down and immediately began sending emails and doing research. He wasn't about to go to sleep, not when Frankie needed him so badly. He'd failed Vesper, he'd failed Mathis and Fields, he wasn't about to fail Frankie.


	6. Pizza boy to the rescue

She was doing it again. Tapping her fingers against the door and shifting incessantly in her seat. He refrained from sighing though he did shoot her a glare to which she responded with a smile.

"I hope you don't think you can just waltz on in there, nab the girl, and dance on out again." He did his best to ignore Agent Smith as she continued to tap those manicured nails.

James had been assigned Agent Smith as a liaison from the CIA, even after he told them he preferred to work alone. They'd insisted, even called M and demanded her approval, and of course he'd been ordered to cooperate with Smith. So far she'd just proven herself a pain in the arse more than a help. Okay, he would admit that she was a great help with the research and paper work of the mission, but out here in the field she was a nuisance. This was their seventh possible holding point and she still insisted on whispering advice over his shoulder while they checked out the place for any indication of Greene's men or shady activity.

"Thank you Smith, I'll be sure to keep your advice in mind." He knew his voice was terse but he couldn't help it, the damn woman was driving him crazy.

He heard her shift in her seat followed by the tell tale sounds of a wrapper. He glanced over at her to see her opening a candy bar. He glared at her until she ripped it open and popped the candy in her mouth, chucking the wrapper into the backseat of the car. Why did they have to give him an idiot of all people?

"Do you think they're here?" she indicated the warehouse across the harbor.

James looked back into his binoculars. "Perhaps. I haven't seen too much activity though. We may have to wait until tonight to get a closer look."

"Nah," he looked back over to her and watched in morbid fascination as she reached into the backseat for a bag, "just wait here and I'll work my magic."

He was about to ask her what the hell she meant when she jumped out of the car and disappeared into the bar and grille they were parked alongside. She was gone a good twenty minutes before she came out dressed in a Pizza Hut uniform. He only watched her as she jumped back into the car.

"The purpose of your wardrobe change seems to escape me." He dryly commented as she stuffed the bag into the backseat once more. "If you think waltzing up to that warehouse with a pizza and a wrong address will work you're surely the dumbest agent I've ever met!"

Smith rolled her eyes at him, "The warehouse two down from that one is owned by an umbrella company the CIA works under. Two numbers are easily mixed up." A few moments later a Pizza Hut scooter drove up. Before the teenage looking boy could deliver the pizza inside the bar and grille Smith hopped out, slipped him some cash, and took off. Of course not before she shot James a smile and a wave. She was surely the stupidest agent ever!

"Can you hear me?"

Bond looked around the car until his eyes fell on the walkie talkie on the dash. He picked it up and stared at it a few seconds before he responded. "You could've told me you were wired."

He heard her swear at a stupid driver before she replied to him, "I know I could've. But then I wouldn't have had the satisfaction of confusing the hell out of you for at least a few moments."

He smiled despite himself. Okay, she wasn't the stupidest agent ever, but certainly one of the strangest.

"I'm used to working alone as well, so sometimes I'm a little, I don't know, pissy when it comes to actually sharing ideas and plans with my 'partner.' Yeah I know it's for the safety and best of the mission," he heard her pant slightly as she again swore at another stupid driver, "but it's a damn nuisance I'll have you know. I just wish we had telepathy or something because that would make working with partners a whole hell of a lot easier."

James again smiled but kept his tone serious, "You almost there?"

"You're not a very interesting conversationalist I'll have you know." He noted the sarcasm and again thought of Frankie. "I wonder if you're as successful with women as you appear to be. So far you haven't impressed my femininity one bit."

He was about to reply when he saw her scooter appear on the other side of the harbor. He kept the line quiet, knowing she would keep him abreast of any movement she deemed worthy of noting. He watched in tense curiosity as she parked a few feet from the entrance of the target warehouse and casually walked up to it. He noted her youthful swagger and couldn't help but smile. She was good at changing her body language. Maybe she was a better agent than he gave her credit for.

"There's some men lurking behind the windows to the north and south, and I can see a few around the side closest to the water's edge. None of them look like the type I'd take home to my mother, if you know what I mean." She spoke softly but clear enough.

He smirked. He both listened and watched as a large man answered her knocks. He frowned and looked a little skeptical as Smith explained herself. A few other men were called forward to see whether or not they had ordered pizza then once it was discovered that no one had Smith was ordered to confirm the call. Then the men cursed her out when they discovered the address mix up and colorfully told her to get the hell out of there before slamming the door in her face.

"I think this is the place, Bond." She spoke as she tossed the pizza back onto her scooter and headed two warehouses down to deliver the pizza again. "They were entirely too shifty to be regular blokes."

James shook his head, "Shiftiness is no reason to waste our time. Did you see any evidence of foul play?"

Smith basically tossed the pizza at the confused receptionist of the warehouse before launching herself back onto the scooter, "The warehouse was full of cars and cars parts so it could be a chop shop, and from the time they had the door open I saw at least three other back rooms along with their office. They could be held in any one of those rooms." Her scooter disappeared from sight. "I'd be willing to stick around and get a closer look this evening."

James leaned back in his seat and lowered the binoculars. There were three other possible holding places on the list they had. It had already been close to three days since both Frankie and the other agent had disappeared. Every hour counted in their favor, or disfavor if wasted.

"Are you willing to bet the life of a fellow agent on your hunch?" He questioned with a frown.

There was a pause and he was surprised he didn't hear her cursing at stupid drivers. "Yes, Bond, I would."

He nodded, "Then once you get back we'll head back to the hotel to pick up the rest of our gear before coming back this evening."

There was another pause then she answered, "Thanks for believing in me Bond."

He shook his head with a cynical smile, "Now you're starting to sound like a girl scout."

"Heaven forgive anyone sound grateful to you!" She scoffed before finally cursing at some hapless driver.

His cynical smile fell as he continued to watch the warehouse across the harbor. He hoped Smith's hunch turned out correct, because he didn't think Frankie could last much longer.

* * *

"You can say it any time you know."

James scowled at the woman lying on the ground beside him. "What the hell are you babbling about now?"

"Oh just the fact that I was right." She smiled back at him.

James frowned, "I don't think now is the appropriate time for congratulations."

Smith shrugged, "I just wanted you to note, for the record, that I was right about my hunch. Now that it is noted we don't need to discuss it further." She settled back down and continued to watch the warehouse through the night and rain.

"I didn't want to discuss it to begin with." He muttered under his breath as he too turned back towards the warehouse.

He heard Smith hiss in laughter, "You sound like a big two year old sometimes." He saw her lips turn up in a smile. "I don't know why anyone is seduced by you."

James kept his temper in check. Why in the hell was this woman talking NOW of all times? They were staking out the warehouse and yet instead of staying silent like any normal agent would she continued to jabber about nonsensical things, such as his powers of seduction towards every other woman but her.

"Smith would you kindly shut up," his voice was terse but he didn't care, "we don't need to give away our position before we get O' Connor and your agent."

"Okay, Bond, if you don't want to talk about your immaturity and short comings as a result of some inner insecurity then that's fine." He looked at her and watched as her lips twitched and jerked in efforts to not smile. "You can save it for your shrink back home."

He was very tempted to toss her down to the men below them and watch them smack her around a bit. She was very annoying. He couldn't believe he thought her a good agent earlier. She was a bloody harpy that would get him killed sooner or later. More than likely sooner with his luck.

"So do you have a plan for getting in this place or are you too busy analyzing my insecurities?" He replied as he turned his attention back to the warehouse.

Smith at least had the decency to chew on her lips before replying, "Well I had an idea and I figured I should tell you before acting out on it like I did earlier."

"That would be appreciated."

Thankfully, her plan turned out to be just as simple as her earlier pizza delivery, but just as effective. With his approval she made the necessary calls before gathered their gear. They crouched by the CIA's warehouse and waited until the opportune moment. Then, right on time, two fire trucks, three ambulances, and over a dozen cop cars rolled up to Greene's building. Almost immediately the men standing guard were busy trying to keep the authorities distracted. They even called out some reinforcements, thus giving Bond and Smith the cover they needed. James only smiled to himself as he slipped around to the back of the building during the chaotic mess. Smith may be a royal pain in the arse, and a babbling dolt, but she did have good ideas, though they were simple. James studied the building, finding only a few small, barred windows around ten feet off the ground as a means to the inside. The walls of the building were tin and slick from the rain.

"Bond." Smith waited by the closest window, bracing herself.

He understood her gestures and moved quickly. He climbing on top of her shoulders and reached up to grasp the ledge of the window. Thankfully there was at least a foot of window ledge so once he hoisted himself up he had an area to balance himself on as he tried to figure out a way inside the window. It was covered in metal mesh and behind that was a thin sheet of dirty glass. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out the metal cutters. The mesh dealt with, he turned his attention to the glass. He gently pushed at it, frowning when he found that it was locked from the inside. No matter, though, he could deal with this as well. He signaled down to Smith and moments later the glass cutter was tossed up to him along with the suction cups. He carefully cut a hole in the glass, using the suction cups to pull the cut glass away.

He reached inside and felt around for the latch and smiled to himself when he found it. As gently as possible he unlatched the window and pushed it open. Thankfully there was a well stocked shelf a few feet below the window. He quietly dropped his gear down before signaling to Smith. After a few awkward tries he managed to pull her up and together they dropped down onto the shelf, both wincing when it creaked from their combined weight. He signaled for her to go to the left and he the right. She nodded tensely before dropping down the rest of the way to the ground and heading off to the left, soon disappearing behind more shelves.

James wiped the rain water from his face before pulling out his gun and moving further into the room. There were only a few fluorescent lights towards the middle of the room, but the room itself was rather large and most of it was in darkness. There were multiple rows of shelves but the further right he went the fewer shelves. His keen eyes scanned the shadows as well as the lighted areas. He noted each closed window and the one door. He came to the last shelf and peeked around its corner. His stomach churned at the sight before him: the table of torture devices, the vacant chair surrounded by blood and gore. He listened to the pattering of rain on the tin roof, the angry voices of Greene's men outside, then he heard a moan and stopped, crouching low to the ground to stay out of sight.

"Shut up you bitch." A man moved out of the shadows by the door and into the light, walking a little towards James' right. "Don't make me hit you again."

James figured the moan came from either Frankie or the missing agent. Greene must've left the one guard for her just in case. Either that or this was all a setup and Greene was just waiting in the next room for him to do something stupid—like save the girl. James waited until the guard turned his back before he moved. He didn't care if this was stupid, it was what he did best. He moved swiftly and broke the man's neck before he had a chance to turn around to see who had made the rustling noise behind him. James lowered the man's body to the ground. He heard a slight rustle behind him and whipped around just in time to see Smith lowering another body to the ground. He gave her a tense nod that she returned before moving in the direction of the moan he'd heard. The closer he got to the figure the more his stomach clenched. He smelled her before he saw her clearly. Blood, urine, vomit, and sex—all the smells of a horrific crime and all the smells that pissed him off the most. He felt his blood boil when he saw her more clearly, taking in her wounds and pitiful state. Her head hung and her body was limp, though he saw her chest rise and fall with each ragged breath.

"Frankie?" He spoke softly as he crouched in front of her, not touching her, afraid to touch her. She lifted her head slightly, her broken face peering into his own. A moment passed before recognition dawned in her swollen eyes. Her split lips lifted into a weary smile.

"James." Her body heaved as if she'd been holding her breath for a very long time.

He didn't say anything more as he bent down and pulled out his knife. He reached forward to cut through her bonds but he looked up when he saw her head violently jerk.

"What is it?" he asked, still not touching her.

She swallowed with effort and gasped out, "I'm wired to something under the chair." She took a haggard breath before continuing, "The wires are connected to my wrists and my ankles and wrap around my waist. I heard something about a cross-wire detonator but I don't know what that means."

Bond nodded, not showing the apprehension he felt. Greene was a bastard! It was nearly impossible to deactivate a cross-wire detonator bomb attached to so many points of reference and wrapped around her body in such a way. It would take a lot of concentration, and a lot of time, if he wanted both of them to make it out of there in one piece.

"Okay, Frankie, whatever you do, don't move okay?" He signaled to Smith to come closer. "She's connected to a cross wire detonator." He saw a shadow pass over her face but she said nothing. "Have you found your agent yet?"

He heard Frankie whimper at his words and he looked up to see Smith frown, "Yeah I found her." She gestured over her should to the one chair and all the gore around it. "At least what's left of her." Her voice wavered slightly and he watched her swallow what was most likely bile. "That man's a bastard." Her voice cracked and she quickly looked away.

Bond frowned. He didn't have time to comfort Smith and keep Frankie calm at the same time. He touched Smith's arm to get her attention. He signaled for her to keep an eye on Frankie while he bent down and studied the device, noting every wire, each color, every screw and plastic piece. He gingerly used the tip of his knife to move some of the wires around to peer more closely at the core of the device. He saw two possibilities of disarmament, but he knew one or both were just a decoy.

"So you're friends with James eh?" he heard Smith lull Frankie into a conversation. He didn't listen to Frankie's reply. He turned his attention back to the bomb.

The noise outside grew and James knew he didn't have much time before Greene finally convinced the authorities to get the hell out. He took a deep breath and refocused his attention. He needed to have steady hands and calm breathing for this, their lives depended on it. He reached up-

"James?"

James pulled his hands back and clenched them into fists. "Yes, Frankie?"

"Even if you screw up, thank you for coming." He heard a hint of amusement in her voice and he shook his head.

"Your belief in me is inspiring, Frankie. Now please don't take this the wrong way but shut up for now." He heard a slight rustle of clothing and he knew she nodded and steeled herself for whatever was to come.

"I think I like her Bond."

"Shut up Smith."

James again refocused himself and reached for the device. He carefully pushed around some of the wires until he found the ones he wanted. If he'd been a praying man he would've prayed the moment before he cut the wire, but he wasn't, hadn't been for some time, and so he didn't waste any time before he cut. One wire down, two more to go. He had to do it in the right sequence or kaboom. He carefully reached the next wire and cut then quickly cut the one next to it. He pulled his hands away and looked at the device. The red lights turned off and the slight hum that it'd been creating suddenly ceased. Usually that meant only good things.

"That's a relief," he heard Smith comment dryly as he sat up and quickly cut through Frankie's bond, "you're better as disarming bombs than you are at romancing women."

James glared at Smith as he helped Frankie stand. She swayed and nearly collapsed. She'd probably not been moved from that chair in the days she'd been missing. Many of her muscles had atrophied slightly in that time and he couldn't forget the pain she'd been put through with Greene's torture.

"Do you think you can walk?" He whispered by her ear, holding her close by his side.

She wearily nodded, "Just don't expect me to run a marathon any time soon."

James nodded, moving towards the door. He listened, hearing Greene and his men continue to argue with the authorities. Smith carefully pulled the door open and peered out while James leaned Frankie against the wall nearby. There was a garage between them and everyone else. There was one door to their right that opened out onto the boardwalk by the water. If they could make it there without getting caught they'd be half way home free. They just had to get rid of the four guys standing in the garage between them and the door without Greene and the others seeing or hearing.

James looked back at Frankie. She leaned against the wall beside him, her weary eyes unwavering from his figure. Smith quickly told her the situation and she nodded, well understanding the gravity of their dilemma. James turned and looked around the room behind them. There was a fire extinguisher, a loose and tangled hose, a number of boxes filled with old tools, the table of torture devices, and the three chairs. Smith had her gun and he had his. Still….James went over to the table and tucked a few scalpels and other sharp objects into his pockets before moving over to the fire extinguisher and hose. He heard a noise behind him and he turned to see Smith handing Frankie a fold up metal chair.

"On my signal." He told them once all was ready; Frankie's only response was to nod.

He waited another five seconds before nodding. Frankie immediately began to moan and whimper, gradually getting louder. He instructed her to step away from the door, out of the line of fire, and then they waited. They both heard at least two guards moving towards the door.

"Yo, George, shut that bitch up!" One of them growled through the door.

Frankie just got louder.

"Come on George!" The guard growled again. When Frankie just got louder he cursed and fumbled with the door.

James moved once the door was open and the guard stepped through. He slammed the guard's face into the chair he'd been holding. As he crumpled, James wrapped part of the hose around his arm, tossing the guard's gun into the corner, before wrapping another part around his neck. He twisted and twirled the man until he was facing the wall then James smashed his head against it until he heard a satisfying crack and the man went limp.

James heard the previous guard moan and turned to find Frankie hitting him over the head with a rusty wrench while Smith hit him upside the head with the butt of her gun and wrenching his head to the side before he crumpled to the ground.

He picked up the fire extinguisher and handed it to Frankie. She nodded, seemingly knowing what was to come. James pulled out two scalpels from his pockets and took aim. With a whistle and a whoosh both flew threw through the air, landing in the neck of the third guard. He fell to the ground. When the other guard turned around to see what happened Frankie opened fire with the extinguisher right in his face while Smith disarmed him before tossing him over her shoulder back into the darkened room they emerged from. Sadly, however, this got the attention of Greene and even more chaos ensued. His men opened fire, first on them, and then on the police who opened fire on Greene's men. Greene divided his men, some keeping the police back, while a smaller group came after Smith, Frankie, and James.

James shoved Frankie into the corner near the door and pulled out his gun, returning fire, taking out two men with his first few shots. He dove for cover behind a car, reaching around and firing. Smith stayed near Frankie, firing over the car they hid behind. He looked over at Frankie and watched with a mixture of horror and pride as she used the wrench to pull one of the fallen guard's guns close enough for her to pick up. He didn't know if she'd ever used a gun before, didn't know if he even liked the idea of her having a hold of one, but he did know that he admired her guts. She didn't fire as much as he and Smith did, but she did return fire, even hit one of the men in the legs. Over the din of the gunfire he heard men shouting and cursing. To him, this sounded like his normal workday in the field, at least if the shit hit the fan.

Suddenly more sirens split the air and James peered around the car to see C.I.A agents pour in and around the police officers. The door near Frankie and Smith burst open and more agents came through, nearly taking out Frankie and himself before moving on past them. Frankie was pulled from the building by a few of the agents and James and Smith was forced to remain where they were until the gunfight was over. However he saw Frankie's eyes before she disappeared. In them he saw the hope and fear that always made his stomach churn. He would make it out of this alive, if only to assauge the fear and make sure the hope remained.

The gunfight lasted nearly twenty minutes before they finally surrendered to the police. By the time everyone had been rounded up and dealt with it was discovered that Greene had gotten away, as had three of his men. Bond was of course angered by this but there wasn't much he could do about it at the time. He'd sustained a few cuts and bruises during the fight, mostly from shards of glass and fists, while Smith had been grazed by a bullet in the leg. They sat side by side in the ambulance while the medics tended to their wounds. Agent's Philip's and Ennis came up to them while they sat there.

"We saw what happened to Banks," Agent Ennis spoke softly, his eyes on Smith, "we're sorry for your loss Adelaide."

Bond looked over to Smith. She wore a grim expression and tensely nodded to her coworkers words.

"We know how close you two were," Agent Philips began, "and…well we're sorry." He reached forward and patted her shoulder awkwardly before drawing back. "Let us know if you need anything."

Smith nodded, "Thanks, I'll do that."

The agents nodded once to Smith then to James before they moved away, back into the mayhem of the fight scene where authorities had begun to catalogue every bullet and glass shard. Bond didn't question Smith; he figured she'd offer up an explanation if she wanted to. He wasn't disappointed.

"Janet Banks was the agent assigned to Greene. In only a matter of months she'd managed to get close enough to him for him to consider marriage. They were engaged and Janet had access to nearly all the information we needed to convict Greene." Smith's voice was raw. "Her identity was compromised a few days before she went missing."

"The leak?" James inquired.

Smith shook her head, "Me."

James was really confused now but he kept silent, knowing Smith would explain in good time.

"Janet and I were romantically involved for some time before she went undercover," Smith's eyes glazed over and he knew she was remembering times spent with her lover, "I was stupid and contacted her after I learned of her mother's death at Christmas time. I should've known better." She sounded disgusted and James knew she blamed herself for Banks' death. "In any case, Greene discovered Janet's true identity from our brief meeting and had her tortured and killed because of me."

He saw silent tears streak down Smith's face and he knew why she'd kept talking while on the mission. She'd been nervous about Banks. She'd feared the worst only to have it confirmed. He knew what it was like to blame himself for the death of another, he knew what it was like quite well. He also knew what it was like to want revenge.

"You going to go after Greene?" He knew the answer already and wasn't surprised when Smith turned her red rimmed eyes to him and nodded. "Even if they take you off the case because its too personal," she nodded again and he nodded in return, "in that case, if you find yourself in need of a partner, just let me know."

Smith gave him a weak smile before she nodded again and turned her face away. He heard a soft sob come from her throat but nothing more. He knew what she was going through. At least his objective was alive, while hers was dead. Though, now that she was alive…did he really want to see her? Did he really want her to forgive him for involving her in this mess?

"Promise me something Bond."

He looked over but Smith wasn't looking at him.

"Depends on what you ask of me."

He heard her hiss and knew it was a cynical chuckle of sorts.

"Promise me you'll take care of her."

Bond clenched his jaw and stared down at his hands. When he looked up he saw a few men from the MI6 branch stationed in America lurking a few feet away. They were ready to debrief him.

"I don't know if I can make that promise." He knew she deserved his honesty.

There was a pause before she spoke again, "Then promise me you won't give up." She did look at him then. "I need to know that I can keep going even when shit like this happens."

He sat there for a moment, letting her words and his thoughts swirl around in his head, before he leaned forward and gently kissed her cheek.

"You can keep going." He whispered in her ear before standing up and stepping out of the ambulance.

He looked back to see her smile slightly before the doors shut between them and she was whisked out of his life.


	7. The First Day

After debriefing and promising to write up his reports later, James headed towards the hospital ward where they were keeping Frankie. He found Philips and a few other agents lurking outside her hospital room and frowned at them.

"Bond." Agent Philips nodded to him as he drew closer.

"Philips." He looked towards the closed door then back to the agent standing across from him. "You think she still needs you guys?"

Philips shrugged, "Your guess is as good as ours. We're just here to get her statement and see if she has any information that could lead us to his new location."

The doctor came out before James could tell Philips and his buddies to get the hell out of there and come back after Frankie healed up a bit. The doctor looked grim and James steeled himself for more bad news. However, the report was better than what he originally thought it would be. Two broken ribs, a broken collar bone, cracked cheek bone, stitches in one cheek, a morning-after pill and rape kit, and other numerous bandages for numerous cuts and abrasions all over her body. She would more than likely need counseling, as well as a either remain in the hospital or a stay at home nurse for the next month or so, but she would survive.

"I don't think you boys should bother her with your questions just yet," the doctor frowned at the Philips, "she's conscious but still in shock. It might be best if you come back tomorrow."

Philips looked like he was going to argue but then thought better of it and nodded. He signaled to his men and they passed by Bond, all wearing matching expressions of grim frustration. Philips nodded once more before he passed by and Bond barely returned the sentiment.

"Are you James?" The doctor turned to face him and he nodded. "She's asking for you."

James nodded and moved to go inside but the doctor's hand on his arm made him pause. He looked up at the man in question.

"She's in a very delicate state both mentally and emotionally. If I were you I'd be the most agreeable and charming man ever known to mankind."

James nodded then proceeded into the room. It had that near nauseating clean smell that most hospitals had. The lights were dimmed to a more comfortable level and a gray light shone through the blinds on the window, casting odd shadows across Frankie as she lay in bed.

"Hey," he spoke softly as he came through the door, "how're you feeling?"

Frankie smiled, "Considering I've witnessed hours of torture and brutal murder, enduring some torture of my own, and was involved in a gunfight during which I actually shot a gun—something I swore I'd never do again after I accidentally shot and killed a cow when I was a child," James was sitting in the chair by her bed by the time she finished her list, "I think I'm doing swell."

"I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner, Frankie." He leaned forward and grasped the edge of the bed, his guilt apparent in his eyes and mannerisms.

"You came," Frankie reached out and laid her hand on top of his, "that's all that matters to me now. Jake is taken care of, I'm already on the mend, and you're here." Frankie squeezed his hands. "Everything else is trivial to me right now."

James shook his head at her forgiveness and acceptance of the matter, lifting her hand and gently kissing her palm. She smiled at his actions. He continued to hold her hand once he pulled back. She really was strange, but in an endearing way.

"The doctor's told me that you would need some help as you recover for the next month or so." James spoke casually, Frankie nodding to confirm his words. "I don't have to go back to England for a month either."

Frankie raised her eyebrows, "And that means what to me?"

"You certainly don't make it easy do you?" James chuckled. "I was just going to suggest that I stay and keep an eye on you until you have to go back to work."

"Ew." Frankie frowned and shook her head. "I wouldn't want you around me if you were only going to be my nursemaid." James looked surprised at her words but she spoke again before he could say anything. "As my temporary flat mate and friend, well that is definitely more tolerable, and definitely tempting." Her eyes were twinkling with mirth when James chuckled and shook his head at her words. "So is that agreeable with you? You wouldn't need to stay in any silly hotel; I do have a spare bedroom and adjacent bath that you could use while you're here."

James smiled and nodded, "Yes, Frankie, that sounds perfectly wonderful to me." He looked around the room for a moment before looking back to her. "So they said you have to stay here for a few nights?" Frankie nodded. "Do you actually like the food they've given you?"

"No, I'm actually allergic to wheat." She frowned down at the pasta sitting on her plate. "I know it makes life difficult for everyone involved but I didn't ask for the stupid allergy."

"What can you eat?" James couldn't even begin to image what was acceptable for a wheat allergic person—nearly everything had wheat!

"Rice, fruits, vegetables, nuts, dairy, meat," Frankie grinned, "I could really go for a salad, with balsamic vinegar for dressing, layered in lots of vegetables and nuts right now."

James grinned, "Is that an order?"

"Well," Frankie blushed, "you did sound like you were willing to go get me something."

He laughed and nodded, "I will, don't worry. Do you want anything other than rabbit food?"

Frankie laughed as she shook her head. James headed out, promising to be back soon. While he was gone gathering supplies he contacted Leiter. He wanted to kept up to date on Greene's movements, as well as Smith. He supposed it was the similarity of their stories that made him want to keep an eye on her. Leiter didn't question his motives but said he'd do his best. When James came back to Frankie's room he had an extra pillow and blanket, a bag of food, a book, and a few magazines.

"Moving in?" she chuckled as she watched him deposit the pillow and blanket on the chair by her bed.

"Well a few of the nurses out there think I'm your boyfriend and figured I'd want to stay with you," he waggled his eyebrows at her and she only shook her head with a roll of her eyes, "and I figured you'd want some entertainment." He held up the magazines and she was pleased with his selection: _National Geographic, Time, Newsweek, _and _Travel._ The book was a Hemingway classic, and though she confessed she wasn't a huge fan of Hemingway she didn't mind hearing James' voice since he offered to read it to her.

He'd bought her a salad and gotten her a fruit smoothie for dessert. For himself he'd gotten a sandwich and fellow smoothie. She made room for him on the bed and they "picnicked" together. He nearly fell off a few times; resulting in laughter from both of them at the awkward position he had to remain in in order to stay perched on the bed. James was also a bit put off with how messy he ended up being after his sandwich quite literally fell apart in his lap. This of course only amused Frankie, and while he was thankful for her smiles he wasn't too impressed with his less than suave behavior.

"Which one do you want first?" James held up the magazines.

Frankie chose _National Geographic_ while James stuck with _Newsweek_. They read in companionable silence for some time, only offering up fascinating tidbits whenever the fancy struck them too. James was surprised at how easy it was to be around Frankie. This was technically their first day together, and although the circumstances royally sucked, it still seemed relatively easy to get along and please the woman. He never had to wonder what she was thinking because either she told him out rightly or her eyes and body language did.

He looked up when he saw her yawn. When he glanced at the clock he frowned. It was already ten o' clock. She should've been asleep at least two hours ago. He was surprised the doctor hadn't come in and told him to butt out. He laid his magazine aside and picked up the book, waving it in the air in question. Frankie nodded.

"Do you mind," she blushed, "sitting beside me while you read?" She paused to swallow then continued. "I mean if it's a problem for you then you don't have to but-"

He cut off her words by moving. He carefully situated himself beside her, with one of her shoulders and her head resting against his chest, their legs stretched out together. He looked down at her to make sure she was comfortable and after a nod from her he began. He was surprised at how quickly her breathing began to even out and her eyes began to droop. He slowed his reading to a stop and began to shift into a more comfortable position.

"James?" her weary voice interrupted his movements.

"Hmm?" James lowered the book and looked down at her.

Frankie licked her dry lips before speaking again, "Will you wake me up if I start to have a nightmare? I mean it'll be quite obvious, I thrash around a lot and moan even more."

"Yes, Frankie," James bent down and kissed the top of her head before smoothing her hair down, "I'll wake you up. I'll be here every time you wake up, don't worry."

Frankie smiled, "My goodness James, I think I really did turn you into a woman. I must be a bad influence on you." She shook her head and clicked her tongue. "What would your coworkers think, and all your past lady friends, if they saw you taking such good care of me?"

James was silent a moment, though his lips were lifted in a small smile. Yes, what would they think? Probably that he was trying to manipulate something out of Frankie, had hit his head and the resulting injury caused his personality to change, or that he was possessed. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, careful of her broken collar bone, and held her close to his side.

"They would probably think I'd had a change of heart and had finally grown tired of playing my wicked games." Not bloody likely; they'd always think he was a louse, and he figured he'd always be one.

"Hey, that's my favorite song!" Frankie smiled, humming a few chords of the song before speaking again. "Just please tell me that our friendship doesn't end like that song does."

James frowned as he looked down at her, "Who said our friendship was going to end?" He found he wasn't surprised or bothered by her casual usage of the term "friendship."

"Well you do have a history of not being able to commit, and a friendship does require commitment." Frankie sounded nervous, "I mean I know you felt the responsibility to rescue me. But in the midst of that your adrenaline was pumping and it was all excitement. On the average, my life isn't exciting. I'm average, James, nothing extraordinary. From my looks to my job, everything about me is average. Do you think you could handle to such a person?"

James continued to frown, looking away from her as he let her words sink in. M's words came back to haunt him. Images of Vesper, Mathis, and Fields flashed through his mind. None of them had been average. They'd all known what sort of organization they were dealing with. They'd all understood the risks their vocation held for them. Frankie was not such a person. She was as far from his vocation as the east was from the west. Did he even want her to be a part of his life? He hadn't even technically been in her life when all hell had broken loose. What else would happen to her if he actually was in her life? When he spoke again, he carefully chose his words.

"My life is filled with danger and anyone involved with me would get more than a little of the brunt of that." He frowned as he looked at her. "Though I will admit to being more than slightly addicted to adrenaline, and my job, as you now know it, does require a sort of personality that feeds off adventure and danger." He sighed. "People in my life need to know the dangers and understand things as they really are."

Frankie interrupted him, "James I wasn't proposing marriage to you just now. I was just wondering if my boring self would be tolerable to an adrenaline junkie such as yourself." She shook her head at him. "It isn't your decision to make whether or not someone who wants to be in your life can handle the dangers. It is theirs. The proper thing to do would be to give them the option and let them decide."

"Proper thing?" James scoffed, knowing that his bitterness was obvious in his voice. "Frankie, the proper thing to do would be to have a death symbol flashing over my head to ward off any possible interests beyond a casual fuck."

He saw her wince at his words but it was the truth. He wanted her to know that they were both taking a risk here. It was potentially life threatening to her to be friends with him. And it was potentially life altering for him to be friends with her. He knew he wouldn't be the same after meeting her and that fact scared him.

"There's more to you than the danger of your job. There's more to you than your past." She sounded like a wise old sage and he couldn't help but smile slightly at her words. "Try not to write off all the possibilities for happiness that life presents to you. You'll end up an old man, bitter and alone."

James let his smile turn cynical, "Men in my profession rarely see old age."

Frankie again winced and he regretted his frankness.

"You never did tell me what you do." She fiddled with the edge of her blanket. "With as much violence and mayhem as I've both experienced and seen in the past few days I don't think I want to know what you do but I can't help but ask since I'm now involved in it."

James took a deep breath and slowly let it out before telling her. She kept a blank expression on her face while she listened then when he was done she patted his hand, of all the crazy gestures, in an almost reassuring manner.

"I can see now why you would need to stay far away from me. You do need to keep that apathetic, womanizing, bastardly reputation in order to survive and keep ahead of the others." She shook her head. "I honestly can't imagine what it must be like to wake up every morning with your job facing me."

"Some days are easier than others." He looked around the room for something to change the subject to. She didn't need to be reminded of who and what he really was. He was already surprised she didn't blame him entirely for the ordeal she'd gone through. Finally he held up the book, "What me to keep going?"

Frankie lowered herself until her head rested against his waist and curled around his body. She purred in her throat for a moment before sighing contentedly. He raised his eyebrows at her movements but smiled softly once she was situated.

"Keep reading. I want to fall asleep listening to you. I think it'll help with the nightmares."

He both liked and disliked the way his gut clenched at her words. Just as he both liked and disliked the possibilities her friendship presented to him. He let his mind wander as he read, noting that it didn't take very long before Frankie's body settled into sleep. He set the book aside and settled more firmly against the pillows of her bed. He would need to move to the chair beside the bed in order for her to sleep more fitfully, but for now he was content to hold her. Feeling her warmth and steady breathing did a good job of keeping his own nightmares and morbid thoughts at bay.

He lay there for quite some time, only moving to the chair when he felt his eyes grow heavy from exhaustion. He didn't want to fall asleep on the bed and risk hurting her. As he settled her back against the pillows he watched her features. She didn't look peaceful, but she didn't look like she was about to scream. Thankfully she didn't look to be in any large amounts of pain either. As he settled in his chair, he glanced over her many bandages and frowned. Should he put her at risk by "giving her the option" of being involved in his life?

He never reached an answer…he fell asleep first.


	8. The Ultimatum

He jerked awake. He wasn't the sort of person to wake slowly and simply, never had been. James looked around the room to see what had woken him. When his eyes took in the changing light of the sky outside the window, he realized it had just been the changing of time. He relaxed back into his chair and turned his gaze to Frankie. She was on her back, lying on her side would cause too much pain, but it was obvious from the way she had her body situated that on a regular basis she slept on her side. He couldn't help but wonder which side of the bed she preferred—he always enjoyed the middle. Her head was turned so he could see her old scar, now with another to soon form nearby. James frowned. He hadn't been able to prevent her from forming new scars.

Frankie's words came back to him then. She called her pain trivial. He smiled despite the bitter taste of failure in his mouth. To her, just the fact that he'd come after her was enough to make her smile again, despite the horrors of reality. James shook his head, though the smile remained on his face. Optimism certainly wasn't his style, but it was admirable in her. He got the feeling that there were many things about her that wouldn't fit his style of life. She'd told him, basically at least, that it was her decision to make, whether or not she wanted to be involved in his life, and not his. He continued to study Frankie while he let his mind wander. Did he want her in his life?

After Frankie had fallen asleep the night before, he'd sat beside her for sometime, watching her sleep. Though she didn't exactly snore, she did have a rather audible breathing pattern, that he found quite fit her personality. It wasn't obnoxious, but it did make him smile. She was right, in that she tended to moan and thrash a bit. He'd had to wake her up at least two times after he'd moved to the chair. She hadn't said anything when he woke her, only blinked until recognition set in, asked for some water, and then went back to sleep. She didn't try to tell him about her dreams, and he wasn't about to ask.

James took a deep breath and slowly let it out as he stood. He needed to move around; he'd been sitting too long. He decided to head out and get Frankie some breakfast. It was still early but it was a city, there would surely be something open. He looked back at Frankie before moving out the door, satisfied that she was still asleep. He wouldn't be gone for long.

However, he ended up being gone a lot longer than he'd planned. He'd only wanted to stop by his hotel room to get a change of clothes, however he'd gotten calls from not only his home office—where he'd gotten a nice chewing out by M and a slightly amused greeting from Moneypenny—but he'd also gotten a call from Felix Lieter. He told him Smith had been ordered on leave for recuperation, but that she had disappeared from her apartment nearly four hours after finding out she'd been relieved of duty temporarily. Bond wasn't surprised by the news but he was worried that Smith would try to do too much without outside help--not that he could fault her for that. He'd done the same thing. Both conversations lasted a lot longer than James would've liked, but they had to be done.

After the unavoidable calls, James went to a nearby bistro where he grabbed a fruit and rice breakfast platter and OJ for Frankie and a cup of coffee and croissant for himself—he'd never been a huge breakfast fan. He hoped Frankie would still be asleep when he got back to the room so he could wake her up to breakfast. But he was disappointed to find her sitting up in bed, being checked over by a doctor and nurse. He held up the bistro bag as ways of an explanation, dropping his overnight bag by the door as he stepped inside. She nodded, giving him a soft smile to let him know there wasn't a problem. He inwardly sighed; glad she hadn't been afraid, disappointed, or mad when she woke up to find him gone. Once the doctor and nurse finished their checkup, and Frankie finished signing the paperwork they'd given her, she was given the green light to leave.

"We can eat here," she spoke once the others were gone, "I'm starving!"

"I'm glad to hear that." James procured her food from the waiting bag and handed it to the eagerly waiting woman, "I was gone longer than I wanted to be. I got a call from the folks back home; they wanted to make sure I was playing nice over here with you Yanks."

Frankie grinned, "You did tell them that you shot up both a classic 1953 Ford Mustang and a beautifully restored 1960-something Austin Martin in a gunfight to save my ass right?"

"Frankie," James made a shocked face, "You just cursed."

"Well, James, you literally saved my buttocks." She chuckled as he shook his head at her. "But did you tell them of that great atrocity?"

"I'm going to guess that you are a fan of said vehicles?" James took a sip of his coffee and eyed her over the brim of his cup.

Frankie shrugged, "I'm a fan of beautiful things, and both of those cars happen to be on my 'beautiful things' list."

"Hmm, I wonder what else is on that list." James waggled his eyebrows at her and she only winked back. "Is the food alright?"

"Yes, it's great, thank you." Frankie indicated his bag by the door after she spoke. "Is that all you brought with you?"

James nodded, "Unlike you females, I can pack light. Also my other bag is still in the hotel. I figured I'd wait until you were checked out of the hospital before I totally checked out of the hotel."

"Okay, Mr. Bond, don't be generalizing or I'll be forced to do the same and say something unoriginal and cliché about your womanizing and quite macho lifestyle."

He hadn't joked around, or flirted, in such a way in ages. It was refreshing and quite fun. He found himself smiling, and easily at that. He wasn't thinking about the consequences of becoming friends with her, he wasn't thinking about Greene still at large, he wasn't thinking about how his job had caused Frankie all this trouble. All he was thinking about was the fact that this peculiar woman was easing a pain in his heart that he'd grown used to and now didn't know what to do about.

James held up his hands, "I surrender; please don't do that Ms. O'Connor. I may not survive such harsh criticisms."

"You just think you're charming." Frankie shook her head as he smiled and nodded, taking a big bite out of his croissant. "However, even the most charming seem to get crumbs." She leaned forward and brushed some crumbs off his chin and off his chest.

"That may be," James watched her movements with a gleam of mirth in his eyes, "but I still got what I wanted in the end."

Her eyebrows rose, her body still rather close to his, "And what was that?"

"Your attention." He grinned in triumph as he finished off his croissant and brushed off the remaining crumbs.

Frankie smacked his chest as she leaned back again."Incorrigible oaf."

"Jealous nag."

Frankie let out a guffaw of laughter at his comeback. It startled James at first but then he joined in her laughter. Though her laugh was loud it was also endearing and infectious. There was no way anyone could be near her while she was laughing without them wanting to join in with her or at least have a chuckle as well.

"So do you have to stay for two more nights or is just tonight good enough?" He asked once their laughter died down.

She shrugged, "I think they said that if all goes well I can be up and out of here by tomorrow morning. I can't wait because quite honestly hospitals give me the creeps. I had to watch my mother die in one and I've never been a big fan of visiting people in them so to be stuck inside one is near torture." At the mention of the last word she winced and inwardly cursed, having let himself forget that even though she seemed jovial inside she was still hurting.

"Do you want or need to talk about what happened? I know the authorities came by while I was gone, the doctor told me, so I'm sure you've already told your story. But sometimes telling it again can help, I don't know. Just tell me what I can do to help you right now." He refrained from reaching out and touching her as he watched her draw closer to the headboard of her bed and mentally and emotionally shrink away from reality.

She remained silent for so long he began to think that maybe he should just leave or perhaps pull out the magazines again, but then she started to speak. At first it was so soft he could barely hear her but after a few moments she was clear and he had to cross his arm across his chest to hide his clenched fists and hold himself back from figeting in anger as he listened.

"I was on my way home from work, driving on my normal route, though it was a bit later than normal. I was at a red light when two vans pulled up on either side of me. Before the light turned green the door on the van to my left slid open and I was jerked out of my car and into the van. I guess someone had ether or something because the next time I came to I was in Jake's apartment and he was screaming at his fiance. She was tied up and sitting on the couch, her mouth gagged, but her eyes, James, her eyes were so full of fight just looking at her inspired me to say something. Of course Jake just kicked me back into unconsciousness for my efforts. When I came to again I was the van. I heard Jake tell his men they could do whatever they wanted to me as long as they kept me alive." Her voice cracked and James almost reached for her but she squared her shoulders and continued. "I don't really remember how many...raped me but I remember only bits and pieces for the next few hours, or days, I don't know. When time had meaning again, I was strapped to some chair in that warehouse. Jake was in there torturing his fiance, her name was Janet."

Again her voice broke and this time she took a long sip of water before continuing. "I heard her screams James, I can still hear them. She wasn't screaming for mercy though, at least not until the very end. At first she was defiant and screamed every obscenity I know at him, and some I never knew. But by the end she was calling out some woman's name, 'Adelaid, oh Adelaid,' over and over and over again. Jake grew tired of her after he felt he'd gotten all that he'd wanted from her and shot her in the head. He had one of his men dismember her in front of me and then they fed the bits to the fish in the harbor." Frankie closed her eyes and James watched her struggle to compose herself. He took the glass of water from her before she dropped it in the bed and she opened her eyes at his movements. She nodded and gave him a weak smile as she leaned her head back against the headboard. "After that he came after me. He didn't need to torture me like he had Janet, he knew that and I knew that. I'm pathetic when it comes to pain, always have been actually. A few cuts here and there, some shock therapy, and I'd told him everything, including my social security and bank number, anything that I thought would make him happy. After the last bout of electrocution everything gets a little hazy. I barely remember what was said or done even when you came and got me." She closed her eyes then and fell so silent he could barely hear her breathing.

He let the silence continue until he was certain she was finished. "Frankie, I wish I could've been there sooner." He felt guilt weigh heavily on his shoulders and he had to look away from her. "I wish-" His words were cut off and he jerked slightly when he suddenly felt her fingers on his lips. He looked into her eyes and saw acceptance and forgiveness there, two things he didn't feel he deserved any time soon.

"James I won't grow tired of telling you how grateful I am that you came and got me. Nor will I grow tired of telling you that what happened to me wasn't entirely your fault. Yes, it was my connection to you that led to my pain, but honestly James, you can't take the blame for every bad thing that happens to the people in your life. If you do that then sooner or later you won't even be able to function." She pulled her fingers away from his lips and gave a small lopsided smile. "I want you to help me get past this okay? But in order for me to get past this I'm going to need you to stop blaming yourself."

His lips twitched, "Is that an order?"

"No," she remained serious, "Its an ultimatum. Because if you can't get past this then I don't think I need to to be around me."

He was surprised at the iron behind her words but he figured she wasn't bluffing. She was right on many counts and he did owe it to her to move on, at least around her. He slowly nodded and watched in satisfaction as a smile spread across her face. She leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Doesn't that deserve something more...than that?" He waved his hand at her lips and his cheek.

She chuckled, "With time I'm sure you'll earn more."

"You can count on it."


	9. Home and Nosy Neighbors

That night passed by much as the previous one. They picnicked on the bed, he didn't fall off or get food on him this time. They read magazines then he read her to sleep. He waited until she was asleep before moving to the chair and he got a few hours of rest, intermittently between her nightmares. The following morning she was cleared for home and they were both relieved, though for different reasons. Frankie because she hated hospitals, James because he wasn't too fond of the chair.

"I'll wait outside while you change." He spoke once the doctor left

"Oh but I was hoping you'd help me change." She did her best to bat her eyelashes at him but ended up looking like she had uncontrolled eyelid spasms.

James smiled and patted her head, "Maybe next holiday I visit."

"Oh get out you womanizing fiend!"

"As you wish envious hag."

"James!" She tossed a pillow with her good arm, but it fell quite short of where he stood.

He just laughed before disappearing outside the door. His smile was quickly wiped from his face when he saw Philips and Ennis waiting on the other side, obviously ready and waiting to interview Frankie.

"Bond." Philips nodded his head cordially. "This will only take a few minutes."

Bond was loathed to let them in with Frankie but he knew it would be best to get it over with. He nodded solemnly before knocking on the door. Frankie grunted and he figured it was okay to open the door. Sadly it was not a good guess on his part.

"Shit!" Frankie stood in the middle of the room struggling with her shirt. "Can you shut the door already James? I'm a little indecent at the moment!"

Bond closed the door on the surprised looks of Ennis and Philips. He wasn't about to let Frankie hurt herself trying to get dressed.

"I think you need help," he dryly commented as he approached, "if you stop struggling I could be of some use."

Frankie chuckled, her face hidden behind the folds of the shirt that was basically wrapped haphazardly around her head and shoulders, "You think?"

James kept his touch professional as he helped her straighten the shirt out and gently pulled it over her head. He noticed that it was a button down shirt and frowned.

"You know you could've unbuttoned all the buttons and pulled it on much easier one arm at a time."

Frankie snorted as she let him button up the few buttons that had come undone, her face red with both embarrassment and amusement. "If there's a difficult way to do something rest assured I'll more than likely do it that way."

James finished buttoning the last button but didn't step back. Frankie had been looking down, watching his fingers work, but now with his lack of movement, and lack of personal space, she looked up in curiosity. James tightened his jaw as he studied her face, with its innocence beaming out of its scars. She was so different from everything he'd known: physically fragile but mentally and emotionally spunky. She trusted him implicitly; he could see that in the way she looked at him and the way she moved around him. Personally, he felt that trust ill placed; he hadn't done anything good for her. Why did she trust him? Why did she want him in her life?

She must've sensed his unease because before he could say anything she reached up with her good hand and cupped his cheek. He kept himself from jerking at her touch; he really hadn't expected it. Her thumb stroked his skin. He watched in fascination as she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose.

"Stop worrying so much, Bond," she spoke softly as she pulled away, her hand slowly dropping from his face, "that's an order."

James chuckled, "Yes ma'am." He clicked his heels together, earning another smile from her.

She nodded before turning and beginning to gather the rest of her stuff. James stopped her by putting his hand on her elbow. She again merely looked at him in calm curiosity.

"The CIA agents are just outside." He gestured over his shoulder and watched as her features hardened somewhat. "They just a few more details I'm sure."

Frankie took a deep breath, slowly letting it out through her teeth, before nodding. James squeezed her arm before letting go and opening the door. Ennis and Philips didn't dawdle before coming in and standing in front of Frankie, who had taken a seat on the bed. James hovered by the end of the bed, just in case Frankie needed him.

The whole ordeal didn't take too long, Frankie's voice only cracked three times. Once Ennis and Philips were satisfied with her answers they gave her their cards and left, again nodding to Bond before disappearing down the corridor. James frowned at their backs. He'd had a hard time listening to the details of Frankie's experience again. Guilt was heavy inside him, anger a close second to the guilt. He really didn't deserve to be Frankie's friend or anything really. She didn't need the danger and complication that being associated with him would bring.

"Hey James are you going to just stand there or are you going to lend a gal a hand?" He heard her joke behind him and he turned to see her holding out a bag for him to carry.

He smiled and nodded, quickly taking the bag from her. They left the hospital only twenty minutes later, taking a taxi towards her apartment complex. Bond didn't look at Frankie much, finding himself lost in thought. He didn't really pay attention to her shifting in the seat beside him. It wasn't until her felt a sharp pinch in his side that he finally looked at her in surprise.

"What was that for?" He rubbed the offended spot with his hand.

Frankie glared at him, "I thought I told you not to worry."

"It's my mind," he knew he sounded like a two year old but he didn't care, "I can do whatever I want with it."

Frankie rolled her eyes and leaned more heavily on the door. It looked uncomfortable so Bond raised his arm and Frankie took the hint and leaned against him. He smiled down at her but she merely glared at him before looking outside again. He refrained from squeezing her more tightly to his side, knowing it would cause pain.

"James." He looked at her, his eyebrows raised in question. "Why can't you let me decide instead of taking all the responsibility on yourself?"

He was a little confused at first, considering they hadn't really discussed any decision of late, but then when she turned to face him more fully, her determination apparent, he knew what she was talking about. He tightened his jaw and immediately looked out the window.

"You don't know what happens to people who I get close to, Frankie." He glanced at the taxi driver before looking at her again. "They always end up hurt or dead."

Frankie didn't even pause before she spoke, "That was them this is me." James took a breath to speak but she silenced him by placing a finger on his lips. "James, I'm serious here, and yes, I know you are too, but hear me out first okay?" She drew her finger away and waited until he nodded his consent before she continued. "I propose that we make this time together a trial period of sorts. You've already agreed to spending time with me to help me, and again I thank you for that. In that time span I suggest we see if it is at all possible to have a relationship despite the obvious differences between our lives. If by the end of the time you are here we both feel that we could never be anything to each other then that will be that and you can go on your merry way without worrying about me." She smiled at him but he only continued to frown back. "However, if at the end of the time period, either one or both of us feels that there could be a possibility of a future relationship between us, then I say we keep in contact through letters, as we did before you came."

While her plan wasn't binding like marriage, and it didn't have as much risk as his living with her permanently would have, he still didn't like it. She interpreted his continued scowl as his answer to her proposal. She jerked away from his side so suddenly that she winced in pain and he stiffened in surprise.

"James, you big oaf, if you feel that your very presence in this car is a risk to my well being then I highly suggest you throw yourself out of it before I end up hurt again." She glared daggers at him. "Don't even think about staying. When we stop, just stay in the car and go to the airport. I don't need you to stay if all you're going to do is mope about, worrying your handsome head off about me. I just went through hell okay? I think I understand what is at risk if you remain in my life? Give me some credit." She didn't even stop to take a breath or bat an eye at her slightly raised voice, James however glanced at the taxi driver more than once. "I don't need you thinking that you can make this decision for my benefit. I'm an adult who can decide for herself whether or not the risk is worthwhile. So, I'll ask you one more time, are you willing to stay and see what happens or are you going to be a pansy arsed Brit and scamper away in fear?"

The car came to a halt as soon as her tangent ended—certainly only timing like that happened in movies—and her stare still didn't waver in its intensity. James was surprised, to say the least, at her frankness and also at the truth in her words. He was a coward, in more ways than one. He had been treating her with kid gloves as if she didn't know what was really going on. He had been holding out on her and she deserved more respect than that. All in all, her tangent was justified, as was her name calling.

The taxi driver turned and stared at them, obviously waiting for payment. James quietly pulled out the appropriate fare before opening the door and stepping out. The driver popped the trunk but didn't get out to help James unload the luggage. James moved in silence, watching Frankie burst out of the car in a huff. She stared at him, the daggers still in her gaze, while he moved. But her gaze softened when she saw him pull out his own luggage before shutting the trunk and knocking on it to let the driver know he could leave. When he turned to face Frankie she was smiling a goofy smile and he nodded.

"Was it the pansy arsed Brit part or the scamper away in fear?" She reached down and picked up the lightest of her stuff.

James tipped his head to the side, "Not quite sure," he helped her with the door, "but I think it was the fact that you were right and I was wrong and I should be man enough to stick it out and give it a try."

Frankie grinned, kissing him on the cheek, before throwing the door open for him. They barely made it to the elevator before they were literally pounced on by a number of residents, all of whom had worried about Frankie. Upon seeing James they immediately drew their own conclusions on their relationship. Some said nothing, merely smiled knowingly, while a few others, the more nosey and careless, actually asked, "So who are you and why are you with Frankie?" Frankie seemed more amused than embarrassed by all the questions, and assumptions, while James kept his mouth shut and his facial expression neutral.

By the time they made it to her actual room they'd been invited to at least four dinners, two teas, and one lunch. James was surprised at the amount of attention Frankie got and didn't know if it was because she was in the South and the South was known to be friendly and generous, or if it was because Frankie was, well, Frankie and had the ability to draw people to her like a light did with moths.

"Are you going to survive my neighbors?" she asked after she pushed open her door and ushered him inside.

James followed her inside then shut the door behind them. It was cozy, not too big and not too small. She seemed to prefer neutrals colors, with warm browns and greens in the living room area and cheerier pale yellows and creams in the kitchen. Her furniture was functional and efficient, not too fancy or plain. She had bookshelves lining two walls, completely full, and another bookshelf filled with movies and CDs by the modest entertainment system. In all it was homey and matched Frankie perfectly.

"They aren't too bad," he dropped her stuff on the sofa to his right but kept his bag in his hand, "congenial and well meaning is better than nosey and bitchy any day."

Frankie raised her eyebrows, "I take it you aren't on very good terms with your neighbors?"

James chuckled and shook his head. That was putting it lightly. He didn't think he'd spoken more than two words to any of his neighbors but had received notes on numerous occasions complaining of this or that—the complaints mostly came from the matronly old woman down the hall who found pleasure in complaining about everyone else's lives and habits.

Before either of them could continue the conversation her door shuddered from someone's violent knocking. Frankie chuckled and moved behind him to open the door. James was surprised she was smiling at the knocking instead of looking worried. But when she opened the door to reveal a pint sized female he understood Frankie's initial reaction.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" The girl launched herself at Frankie, wrapping her small arms around Frankie's waist as if Frankie was about to disappear. "When I heard you had an accident I thought maybe a piano had fallen on you or a vending machine had crushed you." The little girl pulled away to show Germanic features but with Irish hair and eyes. "Then I just heard from Mrs. Carmichael that you're planning on marrying some guy and have thirteen children and raise them in Bermuda? Is that true?"

James chuckled and watched as Frankie pried the girl from her body enough to breath again. "For one thing, Precious, why in the world would you think a piano or vending machine would fall on me? For another, shouldn't you say hello before you launch yourself at me?"

The girl blushed, nodding sheepishly, "Sorry Frankie." She looked at James then back at Frankie. "You always say weird things happen to you, and I've seen some of the oddest things happen to you as well, so I figured if you'd been in an accident it would've been something strange like a vending machine falling or yeah." She toed the floor then looked at James again and whispered to Frankie, "Are you going to marry him and raise thirteen children in Bermuda?"

James smiled while Frankie chuckled. She gave the girl another hug before pulling her further into the room and presenting her to James. James held out his hand and the little girl tentatively put her hand into his, a smile breaking out on her face as they shook hands.

"James this is Precious Sholtz, the daughter of the couple across the hall; Precious this is James Bond, a friend of mine. As of this moment we are not getting married and we are not having thirteen children in Bermuda."

"Nice to meet you Precious," James hated the name but the girl seemed to be relatively charming so far, "I am glad a piano didn't fall on her either."

Precious beamed at him before speaking to Frankie over her shoulder, "I like him, Frankie."

James heard Frankie sigh and he looked up to see her shaking her head at her little friend. Just then he heard a low chuckle from the door and he looked past Frankie to see an old man standing there leaning on a cane. He was the stereotypical old man who lived next door, complete with a cat resting at his feet. James felt like he'd walked into an old American movie of some sort.

"Glad to have you home, Frankie. It'll be nice to have someone to pass Precious off to when she starts to drive Bonkers off the wall." The old man looked down to his cat that merely blinked its eyes at the four of them.

Frankie moved to embrace the man, "I'm glad to be home to Heathcliff." James couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at the name but remained silent while Frankie introduced him to her other neighbor, and also informed him that it was he who was the ex-baker.

"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Dodger," James shook the old man's hand, pleased to find that it was still firm despite the old man's age.

Heathcliff merely nodded, "Just be sure to come and try some of my cooking before you scuttle off back to your island across the Atlantic."

James smiled and nodded. He watched as Frankie continued to talk to the pair of them. He let both his mind and eyes wander for the time being. When Frankie finally bid her neighbors goodbye he could tell that she was both physically and mentally exhausted from having to play things off so nicely.

"Where's your bedroom?" He asked as he picked up her bags and ushered her further into the apartment.

She quietly led the way, a cold sweat having broken out on her brow. She pushed open a door at the end of the hall and pointed to the one across from it. "That is your room, and this is mine." She stumbled inside and James moved in after her. Her room was surprisingly romantic themed, complete with canopy bed and dark colored bedspread. She had more bookshelves in here, of that he wasn't surprised, and the colors were of a darker nature than before. Maroon walls and cream trim, black iron canopy bed with gauze canopy…yes it was like walking into a romance novel.

"All right you," James set her bag down and pushed her towards the bed, "time for a nap. Don't worry about me, I'm pretty good about snooping around until I find what I need. You need some rest right now."

Frankie smiled as she allowed him to boss her around, "Thank you 'mother.'"

James cringed at her words, "Oh don't ever call me that again, please I beg you!" He winked at her as he pulled the blankets up to her chin once she settled in.

Frankie nodded, a tired smile still on her face. James paused, his hand hovering over her head, before making a decision and smoothing her hair away from her face. She blinked up at him but didn't say anything as he bent down and kissed her forehead.

"Call me if you need anything." He spoke against her skin before pulling away.

She nodded again then closed her eyes, leaving him to explore to his heart's content. He checked every lock, every window and door, getting familiar with the general layout. He went through every kitchen drawer, finding where every knife was, and went through the living room finding any possible items that could used as weapons. He was only being cautious, he told himself, not fatalistic. He didn't expect the worst, but he wanted to be prepared just in case.

After he unpacked his gear he opened his computer and dialed up the MI6 office. Moneypenny answered, pleasant and inquisitive like always. They were interrupted by M's sharp voice informing them that she was quite ready to talk to Bond.

"Our contacts have informed us of the current situation," M sounded curt and Bond knew she wasn't happy about something, "what are you planning to do now?"

"Ms. O' Connor is in need of assistance for at least two to three weeks while she recovers so my intention is to remain here to be of some help to her."

M paused before speaking, "Paying your debt out of guilt I suppose, Bond. Just remember that even by remaining there you are putting her in danger. You lifestyle does not coincide with hers."

"I understand that ma'am." He clenched his jaw. "My contacts have not given me any new information on Yusef's whereabouts; neither have the CIA given any new indication on Greene's whereabouts. Unless you have something new for me, I assumed that I was free to make my own decision to remain."

M again paused before replying, "I don't have any new instructions for you. As long as you keep us abreast on your movements, I have no…objections to your decision."

They both knew she had plenty of objections.

"Just remember, Bond, what happens to people who are close to you. Do you really want this woman to have a similar fate?" James felt a surge of anger erupt but he kept his face impassive as she continued. "Don't forget the past, Bond, learn from it."

He nodded stiffly, "Yes ma'am. Is there anything else?"

"No," M sounded a tad disappointed, "keep in touch."

James nodded before hanging up. The conversation left a bad taste in his mouth and frustrated energy in his body. He rose and swiftly entered the kitchen, searching around for ingredients to put together a decent enough meal. He needed to keep busy. A knock on the door interrupted him as he was pulling the rice pasta out of the strainer and putting it back into the pot. He wiped his hands as he went over to the door, peering through the peep hole before opening it.

"What can I do for you Mr. Dodger? I'm afraid Frankie laid down for a nap some time ago."

Dodger nodded, "You'll suffice. I just need someone to taste test this rhubarb pie I made. Frankie usually finds the time, since she seems to like my culinary skills, but if she's down for the count at the moment you'll do." Bonkers the cat trotted past James' feet and settled on the sofa.

James nodded, not exactly liking the intrusion but not thinking of any logical excuse quick enough to send the older man away. Dodger settled at the bar while James pulled out a pair of plates and utensils. Dodger declined a piece so James put it in the fridge for Frankie to have later. It wasn't until he settled down beside the old man that Dodger finally spoke.

"I'm sure you were surprised by all the inquisitors when you got here," Dodger idly rubbed at his left hand and James remembered him having complained of arthritis, "we've all known Frankie for about three years now and in that time span we've watched her heal from a very bad relationship and blossom into the beautiful woman that she is, or was before this horrible…accident." He eyed James critically and James got the feeling that Dodger held him responsible for Frankie's injuries. The old man wasn't too far from the truth if he indeed felt that way.

"I'm glad she has such caring neighbors to look after her. She's the type who needs that; knowing her for such a short time I don't quite have as many insights on her behavior and quirks as I'm sure you do, but I do understand that she's rather absent minded about her own needs." Dodger nodded at James' words but remained quiet so James continued. "So having you tell me that all of you look out for her offers some reassurance."

"So you plan on leaving her then?" Dodger didn't waste any time and James nearly choked on his bite of pie. "Not that I'd blame you if you did. You're life is entirely too dangerous for Frankie to live in. She needs peace and tranquility, not adrenaline rushes and quickies."

James wiped the crumbs away from his mouth and off his lap, "What are you talking about Mr. Dodger?"

"Oh don't try and pull the wool over my eyes," Dodger waved James' words away with a heavy hand, "I know one of my kind when I see one."

"Your kind?" James raised his eyebrows.

"I was planted in the French Resistance prior to the Normandy invasion during the second world war. I did my bit of espionage, sabotauge, and reconnaissance so I well know the dangers, and the kicks, of the profession. When I saw you, and talked with you, I got the same feeling that I used to get whenever I met up with a fellow spy, whether or not he was on my side. The dark mystery, the cynical aloofness," Dodger's eyes sparkled with both mischief and something James couldn't quite name. "Yes, I know my kind when I see them, even if I've been retired for over fifty years now."

James felt his stomach roll. He didn't like being known as a secret agent, he preferred to keep that a secret, hence the name. Having Dodger know, or at least suspect, who he was, made him more than slightly uncomfortable. However, it could aid him in the long run. Perhaps Dodger could help explain the logistics to Frankie if he had to leave more suddenly than they planned.

"So you think you know who and what I am," James finished off his glass of milk before turning to face the man, "What are you going to do with that assumption?"

Dodger just smiled, "I'm not going to 'do' anything, young man. I merely wanted you to know that I know. I wanted you to know that for every puissant thing you do, every bastardly comment you make, I understand why you feel the need to do that." Suddenly the smile dropped from his face and James felt that he was staring at a fellow cold blooded killer just a much older, seasoned one. "I also want you to know that I still have contacts in this up and coming age and I will not hesitate to use any or all of them to hunt you down and castrate you if you hurt Frankie beyond what she can take."

"Don't you think you should let Frankie decide what she can and cannot take?" James knew that Dodger was serious but he wasn't about to show any concern.

"She's a strong cookie, we both know that, but she's also fragile at the same time. You better tread lightly or else you'll fall through and then I'll be waiting at the bottom to finish the job." Dodger waited a moment for his words to sink in before he rubbed his hands together. "Well, now that that's taken care of I think I'll go down and see what Precious has gotten into today. It seems that that girl is always getting into something these days." Dodger heaved himself up, pulling his cane close to his side before he headed towards the door.

James managed to pass him and open the door. Bonkers darted out the door before Dodger and James assumed Dodger would run after his cat but was surprised when the old man turned to face him again. James bit the inside of his cheek. He'd really had enough of these unpleasant conversations. He just wanted to be left alone!

"Remember what I said," Dodger leaned on his cane, "but also remember to be honest with her as well. She deserves that, and much more." He waved a weary hand before moving on down the hallway after his cat.

James refrained from slamming the door shut. He refrained from growling in frustration and anger. He refrained from telling M, Dodger, Frankie, and himself to go to hell. He refrained from all that. However, he didn't keep himself from finishing dinner, grabbing a book, and reading to keep all the frustrating, and downright unpleasant thoughts and memories at bay.


	10. Kissing Away the Pain

Frankie called for him only fifteen minutes later. When he poked his head in her bedroom he found it vacant but heard water running in the bathroom. He cautiously knocked on the door. When he heard her grunt then call his name again he figured it was safe enough to poke his head in. What he saw made him smile but he was smart to keep his chuckle to himself.

"What on earth have you done to yourself?" He pushed the door more fully open to reveal Frankie quite literally tangled up in her clothing, arm sling, and various other bandages.

Frankie muttered something before speaking more clearly through her clothing, "I wanted to take a quick shower so I could feel more human."

"I can see that," James stepped closer, barely avoiding getting hit when Frankie whirled around in another effort to jerk her good arm free from its mess, "why didn't you call for me before you got yourself into this mess?"

Frankie sighed and stood still, "Because I'm not used to people being in my apartment at my disposal." She groaned as she again tugged at the clothing before stopping. "Do you think you could help me get undressed without going mad with lust?"

James laughed, "I can try, my dear, but I can't offer any promises that I won't salivate."

Frankie mumbled something again and James thought he heard something about a "hopeless twit" but he refrained from baiting her any further. He was afraid she'd tug her bad arm out of its sling. He kept his face neutral as he reached out and began to aid her in her efforts to free herself. Once the shirt was discarded he helped her with her socks and pants, leaving her only in her bra and underwear. This was the first time he'd seen all her bruises, cuts, and abrasions, and he felt his stomach lurch at the intensity of the damage. He refrained from saying anything as he grabbed a towel and handed it to her. He then reached around and unsnapped her bra, helping her get the strap over her bad arm but refraining from doing anything further in that category. He knew she could get her underwear off without his help so he instead looked around until he found a clean trash bag and used it to tie around the sling on her bad arm for protection.

"James." Her voice was wavering and James looked up from his work to see her eyes slightly moist.

"What's wrong?" he finally allowed concern to show on his face.

Frankie shifted from one foot to the other, "Is my body completely undesirable now?"

He was surprised that she'd even ask him that, but he didn't allow himself to show it. He also felt his stomach clench in a mixture of anger and fear over her words. That she'd feel so undesirable and unsure made him want to shout in anger, that she'd trust him enough to ask him made him want to run away in fear. However, he couldn't show her either of those reactions, in her delicate state she more than likely wouldn't understand.

He thought back to when he'd first woken up after his torture and found Vesper waiting for him. He'd felt emasculated, a broken shell of a man, but she'd shown him through her acceptance and affection that he was still a desirable being. That was one reason why he'd become so vulnerable to her. That was part of why her betrayal had hurt so much. Because through her affection and acceptance he'd managed to fall in love with her, his body and mind healing more quickly, and more fully.

James knew then what he should do. He stepped forward and laid his hands lightly on her shoulders. She looked up from where she'd been staring at the ground, a single tear having escaped from her left eye. She was so vulnerable, so broken. He knew she didn't like feeling that way, he understood a little of what she was going through. He also knew that she needed him, even more than what she was willing to admit.

"If at any time you feel uncomfortable just tell me to stop."

She raised her eyebrows at his words but nodded in acceptance. He wasn't surprised that she trusted him, he had saved her after all, but that didn't mean that her trust in him didn't make him almost shake in fear. He was honored by her trust, and undeserving at the same time. It made him want to shout in joy and scream in fear.

Shutting away his own insecurities and doubts, James focused all his attention on Frankie. He ran his fingers across the skin on her shoulders before moving them to her face. He traced every scar, every bruise and cut, before moving on to her neck, shoulders, arms, and belly. When he knelled down and did the same with her legs he heard her lightly gasp. He didn't smile in satisfaction, though he felt pleasure in the fact that he was succeeding in his plan. He kept his face openly neutral, figuring that would be more acceptable than showing outright pleasure in this opportunity to touch her so freely.

He moved around to her back, still on his knees. He found one particularly nasty bruise on the back of her thigh and frowned. Not really thinking about it, he leaned forward and pressed his lips lightly against it. Her skin rippled with goose bumps against his lips and he heard her take a sharp breath. He liked this new approach, it was better than just touching. He continued to kiss and stroke each bruise and cut as he traveled from one leg to another before working up to her back and then to her neck. When he was standing behind her, his chest directly against her back, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, again pressing his lips against her warm flesh.

He felt her pulse against his lips, felt her lean a bit more heavily into him, heard her taking more shallow breaths. She was as affected by this as he was. She felt desired, for she surely felt arousal. James had kept his hips away from hers, figuring it was more proper, but then she stepped back and brought herself more fully against him, and they both took a sharp breath. James had only been partially aroused previously, but the proximity, her honest response to him, the warmth of her flesh, all came together in an intoxicating mess that made him more fully aware of his own interest in the proceedings.

He wrapped his arms around her belly, anchoring her to him. He kept his face by hers, his lips occasionally brushing against her skin, while she leaned her head back against his shoulder and relaxed more fully into his arms. He felt such great desire to go further with this. He wanted her. He felt a primal need for her in his gut. But he was not so far gone that he didn't understand that she was still too fragile to pursue that intense of intimacy. Physically she was still healing, emotionally she was shattered, and mentally she was not quite up to par with what would be needed for that closeness. James knew he should back off before either of them was tempted beyond reason. But it felt so damn good to hold her like this, to comfort her, to feel needed and to need at the same time. He took a steadying breath, brushing his lips against her neck one more time, before he carefully began to extract himself from her.

Once she righted herself, standing a bit steadier now, she faced him. Her face, neck, and upper chest were flushed and her eyes bright. He'd never seen her look more beautiful. He was sure he didn't look any less affected than she, though at least he was still fully clothed.

"Why," her voice was husky and his body immediately jerked in awareness, "why did you do that?"

James smiled, brushing his knuckles against her cheek, "I have a rather intimate knowledge of what it feels like after being tortured and broken emotionally and physically." He dropped his hand, his face shadowed. "I know how important it is to feel desirable again, how important it is to even feel desire again. That is one of the main reasons why I healed so quickly after my own encounter with torture."

Frankie nodded. She tipped her head to the side and nibbled her lower lip in thought. He knew she was wondering who had helped him through his ordeal but she looked indecisive on whether or not to ask him if it was indeed HER.

"That's one reason why her betrayal cut me so badly," he continued, knowing she understood what he was talking about, "I'd been so broken and vulnerable, only healed by her aid, and then she went and betrayed me." He felt his jaw tighten and the anger and bitterness from Vesper's actions began to surface again.

"What was her name?" Frankie's voice brought him back from the violent emotions.

"Vesper." His voice was hard. "She killed herself after she betrayed me. I've been told that she did it out of guilt since she truly loved me but," he scoffed with a bitter smile, "I don't know if that's true."

Frankie reached out and cupped his cheek. He looked down at her arm then up at her face, his eyebrows raised in question. Her lips turned up in a soft smile.

"I think you know that she loved you but I also think that you haven't come to that point in your recovery to admit that to yourself yet."

James wondered if she was right but didn't want to think about it at the moment. He nodded, to placate her, before running a hand through his hair.

"You'll need help washing your hair, so after you're done with the shower just give a shout and I'll be back to help you with your hair."

She appeared a bit disappointed that he closed off so suddenly but she kept her smile and nodded in reply. He quickly left the room. He needed some air, NOW. He hurried out of the apartment and down the stairs until he was safely on the sidewalk just outside.

Dodger had said to keep his mind open to the possibilities. M had told him to not forget the past. Frankie had told him that it was her choice. What did he think? What did he feel? James scowled up at the sky, his hands shoved into his pockets. This was such a mess. He honestly didn't know what to think or feel. He wanted Frankie, felt a need for her; yet he also wanted her to be safe and protected from his past. Surely she could understand that it was only out of concern for her that he felt the need to leave her.

He almost growled in frustration as he peered up at her apartment window. He couldn't help but wonder what it would've been like if he'd met her before Vesper. Would he feel such an affinity for her? Would he be so receptive towards her? He shook his head and looked off down the street. There was no knowing for sure about much of anything at the moment. She needed him, they had an agreement, and he had the time. He could only do his best to not hurt her, and to keep from becoming too attached to her.

"You should be more careful."

James nearly jerked to the side when Agent Ennis' voice sounded off to his right.

"What is it now?" Jame refrained from growling like he so dearly wanted to.

"Agent Smith has sent us word, untraceable mind you, that some of Greene's henchmen have started to converge on this city. She assumes that they are tying up loose ends, and frankly the department agrees with her." Ennis glanced around the street then up at the apartment building. "Keep an eye out for any suspicious activity and let us know if you see anything will you Bond? We don't want Miss O' Connor to end up like our agent."

James clenched his jaw, "Are you going to assign some uniforms to her apartment building to stake out the place just in case?"

"Nope." Ennis also clenched his jaw. "Some higher-ups feel that it is unneccasary and some actually hope Greene's men make a move on Miss O'Connor, that way they'd be drawn out and we'd be more likely to catch Greene."

"Knew you'd say that." James looked away from Ennis and back up at the sky as well.

"Well now that you know it for sure you'll be more likely to be on your toes now won't you?" Ennis glanced at his watch then shifted in order to walk away. "If you do catch anyone making a move try and play nice and leave them alive for us to question. Have a good evening." Agent Ennis walked away, placing a hat on his head as he did so.

James jerked a little when he felt the sudden downpour on his head and shoulders. He squinted against the torrents of rain and continued to watch Ennis until he got into a car and drove off. James glared after them until the car disappeared around the corner. He growled to himself as he trotted down the street in the opposite direction. He just needed a few more items and dinner would be set. In the process of going to the store he studied Frankie's neighborhood, noting alleyways, cars, stores, and possible exit routes. Once satisfied, for the moment, he made his purchases from the corner store and quickly walked back to the apartment. He certainly wasn't about to get off "his toes" any time soon, and he'd be damned if he allowed anyone to hurt Frankie again.

She was still in the bathroom when he returned. Quickly he trotted to his room and changed into a new set of clothing and finished off dinner. When she called for him he was sitting on the couch reading one of her books. He quickly moved down the narrow hallway to her bedroom and then on into her bathroom. She was wrapped up in a robe that was tightly tied at her waist. Again she had tried to do something without his help because her hair was half sudded up and hanging down in her face.

"You are bound and determined to make life difficult aren't you?" He pulled her bathroom chair over to the sink and bade her sit in it, which she compliantly did.

She sighed as he pulled out the shampoo bottle and began to finish off her hair, "Well again I don't exactly like having to have someone help me. I'm very independent, as you know, and yeah." She shrugged and he watched her wince from her own movements.

He instruced her to lean over and he quickly rinsed out her hair. "Do you have any leave-in conditioner? I think that'll be more effective and less painful on your neck than actually trying for traditional conditioner."

He heard her chuckle, "I can't believe you actually know about leave-in conditioner. You're more metrosexual than I first thought. Its over there in the cabinet, four shelf from the top on the left."

He rolled his eyes as he moved away, "I'm not metrosexual, I just pay attention to my hair dressor, unlike most men." He quickly rubbed in the conditioner and helped her sit back up. "I do have a persona to keep up after all."

"Yes," she chuckled as she allowed him to rub the towel across her head, "you do. And you're doing some serious damage to it right now."

He stopped his movements, moving her hair out of her face so he could see her more clearly, "And how am I doing that?"

She leaned up and kissed his cheek before he could stop her, "By being a sweet heart."

He dropped the towel on her head and walked to the door, "Well then I'll just go make sure supper is burnt and you get none to make-up for my earlier sweetness."

As he closed the door he heard her laugh and he smiled all the way back to the kitchen.

* * *

"So you made all this," Frankie gestured to the remains of dinner sitting on the coffee table in front of her and James, "by hand?"

James chuckled, "Well I didn't make the pie, Mr. Dodger did, but everything else I did make."

"Oh Mr. Dodger stopped by," Frankie looked a little nervous for a moment, "did he stay very long?"

"Oh long enough to have me sample his pie and warn me not to hurt you for fear of his wrath."

Frankie laughed and nudged James with her elbow. They both were leaning against the back of her plush couch, relaxing from the dinner, and her earlier shower ordeal. James had thankfully changed the music to something a bit more relaxing and conducive to a pleasant dinner atmosphere. She'd expressed her surprise that he'd been delighted over her classical collection and was even more surprised when he pulled out Brahms to listen to.

"So what's on the agenda for tomorrow?" He asked, breaking the silence

Frankie sighed, "Well I don't know. My work was already informed of my condition and granted me a month's recovery."

James nodded and crossed his arms. "Well are you feeling up to moving beyond the apartment?"

Frankie tipped her head to the side, "Maybe not tomorrow but the day after I'll be more up to it. Why, do you want me to take you around the city?"

"It's an idea. I figured it would cheer you up to show me your favorite spots and I in turn would learn more about where you live, and it is always important to learn about the environment where an exotic creature lives in order to better understand said creature."

Frankie wrinkled her nose at him, "So I'm an exotic creature now? You have such wonderful endearments, James, I really am impressed. Hag, wench, exotic creature, what will you think of next I wonder."

James chuckled and Frankie smiled. A few minutes later James got up and started putting food away while Frankie did what she could with her one good arm to help clean up. James tried to shoo her from the kitchen but that argument didn't last very long and it ended in Frankie's favor. By the time they were done, Frankie was ready for a movie. She picked out one of her favorite Abbott and Costello movies and they sat down with drinks and popcorn to watch it.

By the end of the movie James knew she was asleep. Her legs were across his lap and her head and back rested against the arm rest of the couch. He used the remote to turn off the T.V. and sat there in the fairly dark room. He was in no hurry to move Frankie, and she seemed to be so asleep that she was in no hurry to be moved. He leaned his head back against the couch and allowed his mind to wander again.

Where was his life going to go now that he knew her? After this month he would have to go back to work and with his work he couldn't afford to keep Frankie too close. He didn't want to hurt himself or for her to get hurt because of him. Well, in regards to the latter, it was too late, but he certainly didn't want a repeat. So once he went back would he continue to keep contact with her and put her at risk or would he break contact and suffer from loosing such a great friend?

He shifted to get more comfortable, listening as her breathing shifted then settled back again. She truly was his closest friend now. Closer than Mathis had been, definitely closer than Felix, and of course closer than Moneypenny or M—if he could even refer to M in the friend category. If there was ever anyone he knew he could be vulnerable to without fear of getting backlash for such vulnerability it would be Frankie. Her heart was in her eyes and her honesty was always ready to spring forth in either a laugh or a scowl.

James looked over at Frankie's sleeping face and smiled. Her face was starting to stiffen and he knew that her typical bad dreams were probably starting to build up. He'd wake her in a few minutes anyway so for the moment he'd let her lie still. As he watched her he thought over how she'd managed to wheedle her way into his heart and under his skin. She'd changed him, and without even really trying to. Because of this, his relationships with women, how were they going to change? He would have to continue using women as he had in the past in order to get what he wanted but would it be easier or harder now that his heart wasn't as cold and cynical?

Her legs twitched and James felt it time to wake her. He moved her legs and stood up, turning and placing his arms under her knees and back. He whispered her name close to her ear as he lifted her up, careful of her arm and collarbone. She awoke once he was holding her but she made no move to leave his arms, she merely blinked away the grogginess and smiled up into his face as he carried her to her room. She really was adorable.

"My hero," she cooed as he moved, "I may offer to pay double your salary just to keep you here to take care of me."

James chuckled, "You couldn't afford me."

"Oh I'm sure I couldn't," Frankie chuckled as he carefully placed her in her bed and watched as he pulled the covers up to her chin and set about tucking her in, "especially with your looks and reputation. Put those together with your abilities and that spells mega dollars, or pounds, in any country. I'm just lucky to have you as a friend who doesn't charge."

James smiled before sitting on the edge of the bed, smoothing her hair out of her face. He leaned forward until his weight rested on his elbow, his face inches from hers.

"I actually do charge."

Frankie wrinkled her nose, "Uh oh…what's the charge of being tucked in?"

James tipped his head to the side before smiling, "A kiss." Frankie leaned towards his cheek. "On the lips." She pulled back and playfully scowled at him.

"Blackguard."

"Oh I love it when you talk dirty." James teased right back.

Frankie sighed and rolled her eyes, "Just one kiss?"

"Oh the temptation shivering beneath me!" James cupped her face with his hands and made a show of widening his eyes.

Frankie giggled, "How can I take you seriously when you talk like that?"

"How can I not give into my desire when you talk like that?" James mimicked back.

"Shut up!" Frankie finally groaned closing her eyes. When she opened them again James smiled, his eyes alight with mischief. She clicked her tongue at him. "You really are just a little boy in a man's body."

"Well then it's a good thing I've got you around to keep me in line. Who knows how many cookie jars I might raid without your guidance?" He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Frankie sighed, "Do you want your kiss or what?"

"I want."

"Then shut up."

"Okay."

Frankie took hold of his chin and leaned up, quickly brushing her lips across his in a sweet but very chaste kiss. James supposed he shouldn't have been surprised at her choice of kiss, he hadn't specified what type of kiss after all, but the "little boy" side of him, as Frankie described it, was disappointed that she hadn't seized the opportunity for a little extra fun. After the bathroom scene he wanted much more than that, but given her past history with men let alone her torture, he wasn't surprised that she kept it light. He smiled down at her when she lay back down.

"Will that suffice?" She asked, trying to hide her own smile.

James nodded before kissing the tip of her nose, "For now at least."

"Oh bother. You're incorrigible."

James grinned as he stood up, "Of course. You wouldn't want me around otherwise."

"I suppose." Frankie continued to smile as she watched him walk towards the door. Her voice stopped him from closing the door, "Leave it open in case I start having bad dreams, that'll make it easier for you to barge in and be my knight in shining armor again."

James nodded, "I'll just go polish my armor while I have a chance."

As he walked into his own room he heard her chuckle making him smile as well. He softly went back into the kitchen to clean up after their movie, his mind wandering from Frankie to his conversations with Dodger and M. By the time he finished what he was doing and went into his bedroom his face was marred with a scowl. M needed cold blooded killers not soft homemakers. He'd allowed Frankie to turn him soft(er), he didn't know how it had happened, but it had happened. She'd warned him to remember the past and he knew that by doing so he'd also remember his training as said killer.

There was no other vocation he could see himself doing. He was an adrenaline junkie; he lived on the edge of life and liked it that way. He couldn't very well settle down and work in a bloody office doing the same bloody thing day after day. That would kill him far more quickly than a bullet from an enemy's gun. In fact, he'd rather the bullet than the grating day-to-day life of the average office worker.

So now that he knew he wasn't about to leave his current job, at least he wasn't interested in doing so, how was he going to cope with his relationship with Frankie in reference to his job? James frowned as he rubbed his temples, a headache starting to form. Could he be able to balance the calmer, safer, and more vulnerable side of his life with Frankie with his harsher more violent MI6 life? Was that even physically possible? They were at opposite ends of the spectrum of life. M was right in her observations in that regard.

James sat up straighter when he heard noises coming from Frankie's room. He stood and quickly moved across the hall into her darkened room. He could just make out her thrashing form on the bed. He immediately sat by her side and laid his palm against her forehead, making silly shushing noises until her body stilled and her breathing returned to normal. He stayed there instead of going back to his room. His headache lessened when he was with her.

A life with her would be simple but amusing, never a dull moment surely. There would be the occasional adventure but that would come from the tame outing of travel and tourism instead of sabotage and spying. She would dedicate her entire heart and soul to the relationship, doing everything in her power to make sure he was happy and well taken care of. However, he got the distinct feeling that if she sensed him chafing at the bits of common society she'd tell him to get the hell out before he drove her crazy. He smiled at that thought and nodded to himself; yes she definitely would do that.

Frankie started to thrash again and this time bumped her wounded arm hard enough to elicit a moan and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked the room into focus and upon seeing James sitting there she frowned.

"I'm sorry James; you really should get some sleep."

James shrugged, "I wasn't asleep yet."

Frankie sighed and nodded, her body tugging her back towards slumber. "You can stay with me if you like." She shifted into a more comfortable position. "That way you don't have to keep coming and going. I promise I don't bite, and you already know my sleeping habits."

James smiled and nodded as he watched her nod back at him as she fell back asleep. He stood and went back into his room, changing into his sleeping clothes. After brushing his teeth he padded back into her room and got into bed on the opposite side, not moving closer for fear of waking or disturbing her. It would be one of the first times he slept with a woman without really sleeping with her. He smiled to himself as he got more comfortable on the bed and closed his eyes. M would have a coronary if she saw him now.


	11. A lazy day together

At some point in time he woke up shivering and in a cold sweat. He rolled over onto his side and curled up in a ball, willing away the discomfort. He coughed and wheezed, again willing it all away and again was loathed to get up to do anything about it. He drifted in and out, sometimes he felt horribly hot and threw off the covers, other times he felt terribly chilled and curled into a ball. At some point he felt a cool hand pass over his clamy forehead but he paid it no attention, he was too busy trying to stay warm and then trying to stay cool. As he drifted in and out over the next few hours he heard a faint voice mumbling incoherant sayings, though the sound comforted him. He felt a cool cloth press against his forehead. His chest was covered in a cooling and yet warming lotion. He had help sitting up long enough to swallow some warm concoction and a few pills. After that he knew nothing, felt nothing, and was nothing.

When he was fully aware again he had the strange sensation that something had happened the night before without his full knowledge of it occuring. Daylight streamed through the corners of the shades on the windows. He allowed his mind to come fully awake before he moved. When he went to sit up he was surprised at a slight weakness in his muscles. He frowned as he glanced down at the bed beside him to find Frankie's spot vacant. When he looked at the bedside stand to see a bottle of pills, an empty mug, vapor rub, and a discarded cloth he frowned even more. So he had been sickly the night before and Frankie had tended to him. He rubbed a hand over his face. The stress of the last mission, Frankie's mishap, and the elements must have caught up with him. It was rare that he was ever sick longer than a night or so, and thanks to Frankie he was already getting over the night before. He didn't exactly like the fact that he'd left her vulnerable, if even for a night, but he was grateful for her minstrations.

She popped her head around the corner, "Good morning sleeping beauty." She came into the room carrying a mug of steaming liquid. "I'm still working on breakfast but you can have some tea. Its green tea with honey and lemon, guaranteed to mend any sort of internal illness." She thrust the mug into his hands and stared at him until he finally raised it to his lips to sip at. "I think we both need to take it easy today. Me for obvious reason," she wiggled her still bandaged arm, "and you for surprising but equally obvious reasons as well."

"I'm not sick Frankie." He mumbled over his mug, feeling a bit like a child under her care.

"Well not now at least but if you push yourself too hard today then it'll be back again like a bad penny tonight." She sat on the edge of the bed with a smile still on her lips. "I say we just hang out up here with some books, music, and lots of tea and rest. Tomorrow we'll go out and explore. We still have three weeks to see everything so no worries."

He smiled, "You do know your being a little patronizing right now right?"

"I know. I am an assistant teacher after all and any time my students get ill at school I'm always mothering them." She reached out and ruffled his hair playfully. "You may not be a student but it does feel a little gratifying to mother you a little. Makes me feel a little...bigger I think." she winked at him and he chuckled.

"What's for breakfast?"

"A surprise." she made to get up but he reached out and caught her good wrist. "What?"

"Come here." He tugged at her wrist until she sat back down and leaned closer. "I want to thank you for your nursing last night and this morning."

Frankie blushed, "Well you just did so-" her voice caught in her throat when he tugged again and she was suddenly sprawled across his chest, her face tipped up to peer into his, "Oh...you want to 'thank' me I see." She was smiling and he saw a playful glint in her eyes. "Well this show of gratitude shouldn't take too terribly long since I have eggs on the stove."

"Well now, I don't think I've ever had to compete with cooking eggs before." He leaned closer, his tea sweetened breath warming her face. "But there's a first time for everything now isn't there?"

She smiled as he pressed his lips against hers, rubbing them gently against hers until she responded in kind. The kiss was soft and unhurried, neither seemed interested in deepening its intimacy, and both continued to smile when they pulled back. He kissed her forehead and caressed the side of her face. She looked content to remain there all day and he had to chuckle.

"Didn't you say something about about eggs on the stove?"

She swore under her breath, pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, then hurried out the room, leaving him with a grin.

* * *

They spent the day reading on the couch, his feet in her lap and hers in his. They ate when they were hungry, drank so much tea they fought over the bathroom, and listened to most of her soft jazz collection by the time evening began to fall. Before they made dinner they each went to their separate "corners" to work on their respective computers. She said she was checking out a surprise and he of course was checking in with M and Leiter. He didn't hear anything he wanted to hear. Leiter told him everything he knew about Smith's whereabouts and her information on Greene. M lectured him again on still remaining with Frankie and told him nothing new about his leads for Vesper's ex. When he came back into the kitchen to find Frankie waiting with dinner and two glasses of wine he was frowning.

"I hope that's the sort of frown I can ease away and not the sort of frown that's going to cause me pain." She handed him his glass and sipped at hers as she watched him sit down at the bar beside her.

"Some of Greene's henchmen have been spotted about the city. A few people have been murdered already and the CIA feels that they are silencing loose ends." he watched as her shoulders tensed but she said nothing so he continued. "I still have no new leads on my next mission so I am still free to remain with you, despite the fact that my superior would rather I leave you completely out of the picture and move on."

Frankie nodded as she picked up her fork, "Eat while its warm James."

"Don't you have anything to say?"

"James," she sighed but didn't look at him, "I want to remain your friend and I want you to remain in my life inspite of the danger that may bring. So I really would like to tell your superior to bugger off." He hid his smile. "Now with Greene's men lurking about I feel much safer with you with me so I guess I'm selfish in wanting you to stay until Greene is apprehended but that's that now isn't it? I have my selfish reasons for wanting you to stay and you have your selfish reasons for staying as well. I'm sure you also are struggling with the desire to leave in order to protect me but we discussed this earlier." She poked at her food then finally turned her eyes on him. "In any case, no matter what you feel on the matter, I think its your duty to stay with me until Greene and his men are apprehended. As one friend protecting another, or as a spy protecting a possible lead, whichever you want to see it as."

He was surprised she came it from that angle, but he supposed he shouldn't have been. She was pragmatic and yet also emotional, though not horribly so on the latter. He figured she'd say what she needed to say to ensure her own safety and as well as his presence within her life. Not that anything she'd said was a lie, nor had she embellished anything. He couldn't fault her for her desires and fears. He supposed he'd just have to fulfill his "duty" to her as both a friend and spy, and in the process try not to fall for her.

"I don't exactly see it as a duty to stay here with you, Frankie. However at the same time I do feel that it is my duty to protect you from whatever danger my presence may bring." He sighed before taking a long sip from his glass. "So I'm sure you understand that I'm torn in my desire to stay and in my desire to protect you."

She smiled, "Does it make you feel impotent?"

"What?" he raised his eyebrows at her word choice.

"Well I mean to be impotent means to be unable to perform; in a way you are unable to do either, stay or go, and thus are just here biding your time until the shit hits the fan again." She shrugged, though her lips were turned up in a half-hearted smile. "I understand that and I actually have the odd premonition that it is going to be this very division within you that drives you away from me."

"That's not exactly fair to either of us Frankie." He was angry with her for thinking that she wasn't worth his time or efforts to stay and he was angry with himself as well for knowing that what she said was true and that he was unable to argue against it.

She smiled and patted his forearm, "I'm not self-effacing myself here James, I'm being honest. I know I'm worthwhile, I know I have something to offer the world, if not in body then in mind and spirit." She tugged at her bandaged arm as she spoke and he felt a new wave of self-loathing as well as anger at the men who'd hurt her. "But I also know that sometimes things are inevitable. Your leaving me for your job is inevitable, we both know that. The question is whether or not you stay in contact wtih me after you leave. Only time will answer that question." She gestured to their dishes. "And time is only making our food cold so can we stop this conversation now, eat our dinner, and soak up some carpe diem for the evening?"

"Sure." He kissed her cheek before turning back to his dinner.

After dinner they watched a Laurel and Hardy film and topped it off with some more wine and a little dancing in her living room. He liked the feel of her swaying in his arms. Like a waking up all warm in bed on a cold morning, that was the sort of comfort he felt every time he held her. He knew she felt similarly, her eyes belied nothing from him. They didn't dance for too long, just a few songs, then he watched her eyes grow droopy and her arms slacken a little around his neck. He carried her to her room at this point, despite her half-hearted protests.

"I won't make you stay with me tonight," she winked at him as she pulled down her own sheets and began to crawl into bed, "but if you have bad dreams feel free to come crawl in bed with me."

He smiled, "I'll be sure to remember that." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "Let me know if you need anything."

He retired to his room and she remained in hers. As he fell asleep he couldn't help but remember her earlier prediction. _"just here biding your time until the shit hits the fan again_." In a way she was right but in so many other ways she was wrong...


	12. The Attack

James jerked awake. It wasn't yet daylight and when he glanced at the clock he saw that it had only been an hour since he'd settled into sleep. He rolled over and got up; knowing that something had woken him up. Perhaps it was just a foreign environment. Perhaps it was something more. He quietly walked to the bedroom door and peered out. The apartment was shrouded in darkness, only shafts of light cutting through here and there from the blinds over the windows. He could hear the sound of cars outside but nothing else. Something had certainly woke him up, but it wasn't obvious yet what it was. He began to move into the hall. Suddenly something whizzed by him and he watched as a knife imbedded itself in the wall beside him. He jerked back into the cover of the bedroom, his heart pounding. There was someone in the apartment. He heard a slight rustling and knew that whoever it was was moving into a new position.

James frowned as he glanced across the hall at Frankie's bedroom door. He took a deep breath before rolling over into her room. He quickly closed the door, locking it, before moving over to Frankie. He covered her mouth with his hand, watching with satisfaction as she jerked awake but made no move or noise. He signaled her to be quiet before taking his hand away. He gestured for her to follow him as he led the way into her bathroom. He shut and locked the door behind them. There was a small window over the toilet, only barely big enough for her to squeeze through. On the other side lay a fire escape. He opened the window and gestured for her to climb onto the toilet.

"What's going on?" she whispered, only for James to signal for silence again.

She sighed before nodding, carefully maneuvering herself until most of her body was outside the window, relying on James to help her make it without further damaging her arm. He shut and locked the window once she was safely outside. He signalled for her to move out of sight on the fire escape. She nodded, pressed her hand against the window, then crawled away. James quickly listened for further movement, only faintly hearing the sound of the knife being removed from the plaster in the wall and the handle of Frankie's door being jiggled.

He quickly moved through the bathroom into his own room. He snatched his gun from its holster and did his best to silently cock it. He knew the attacker would hear it though and so moved quickly for cover underneath the bed. He'd lie in wait. And he didn't have to wait long before he heard footsteps pause at his doorway. He peered out from beneath the bed waiting until the attacker drew closer. He could make out the shadowy silhouette and immediately fired. A man screamed in pain as the bullet entered his leg, dropping to the floor immediately. James fired again, silencing the man with a fatal bullet.

He rolled out from beneath the bed, his gun still in hand, and approached the body. He kicked it before reaching down and double checking. Yes, whoever it was was dead. And now the apartment building was waking up. He heard Frankie banging on the window, more than likely anxious to know that he was alive. He hurriedly moved into the bathroom and holstered his gun as he reached for the window. A hot pain erupted in his back and he turned to find another attacker hovering in the door way. He reached around and pulled out the knife from where it had embedded itself. The attacker launched himself at James, fully intent upon killing him. James heard himself grunt, heard Frankie's banging, heard sirens wailing. He felt the blood seep out of the wound, his heart pounding. He tasted copper in his mouth after he tried to capture the attacker's arm only to be head butted in the face. He dodged each attack, barely evading being sliced to bits.

Suddenly another attacked launched himself into the room and James was soon cornered in the shower. He seized random objects and started chucking them at his assailants, trying to buy time. One of the suddenly turned towards the window and Frankie. He tried to move in between them but the other attacker kept him where he was. He continued to fight, grunting and moaning at the pain and efforts. He heard the window slid open and again tried to throw off his attacker so he could make it to Frankie but he only got cut on his arm for his efforts. He heard Frankie scream and saw red as he fought with every last effort to be free of his assailant so he could make it to her. Then he heard two shots fired and felt his assailant go slack then drop to the floor. He quickly turned to find Smith hanging in through the fire escape window, gun in hand, with both attackers dead on the floor.

"Sorry I'm late Bond." She pulled herself through the window then turned and helped Frankie in. "Traffic was hell."

The apartment door thudded and he knew it was the police. smith glanced at the dead bodies then at Frankie and James. She smiled as she tucked the gun into her belt.

"Greene's in town. I don't know where yet but he's in town again. I was following these goons and fully expected to find Grenne but low and behold I find you two. Never thought I'd be the one to rescue you Bond." She winced when she heard the door crash open. "That's my cue." she hoisted herself through the window but poked her head in again. "I'll take care of Greene Bond, you just keep an eye on her." She gave Frankie a wink, James another smile, then promptly disappeared.

In the aftermath, it was discovered that the men were Greene's and had been sent to eliminate Bond and Frankie. After some heated discussions and definite confirmation the police ceased their demands for Bond to come with them to their precinct. They did, however, escort Frankie and him to the hospital where Bond received ten stitches in the knife wound in his back and eight in his arm. Frankie was also checked over by her doctor, had her arm taken out of the sling and a few bandages removed but still kept some. Before they could leave they ran in ro Philips and Ennis again.

"I suppose you ran into Smith." Bond didn't confirm or deny the statement. "She's gone rogue but so far its suit our purposes just fine. However, Bond, if you keep any information from us there will be hell to pay." Philips leveled a steady gaze on him but James was far from intimidated.

"Take care Miss O'Connor." Ennis gave Frankie a polite nod before turning to face James. "Take care Bond." His eyes traveled back to Frankie and James nodded, fully understanding the meaning.

By the time they returned to Frankie's apartment building it was already daylight. Almost every single neighbor peppered them with questions, and almost every single neighbor glared at James, even though it was obvious that he had been harmed as well. They explained it as a robbery gone wrong, but only Dodger knew better. He kept his opinion to himself, thankfully, but he did stare accusingly at James. Somehow the old man's stare made his wound pound even harder.

Once they were safely inside both of them seemed to crumple in exhaustion. James didn't know who was helping whom as they moved together down the hallway into the bathroom. They'd repair the damages later on in the day but at the moment they both craved rest.

James knew he needed to inform M of the newest occurrences but after Frankie lectured him briefly on how he was useless until he rested more he finally gave in and climbed in bed beside her. He was surprised when she scooted closer to him. He didn't complain though. He merely wrapped his arm around her body and buried his face in her hair. He needed as much reassurance of her safety as she did. The attack had shaken him to the core. It reinforced his own doubts and he knew that he would have to leave her sooner than she would like. But, for the moment, he was content to hold her.

* * *

Once they both woke they ate a late breakfast, though it was closer to lunch time. They then worked together to clean up the mess that had been created by the attack. There wasn't much that could be done to the carpet in James' room, since the corpse had bled quite freely. It would have to be replaced, but for the moment Frankie was content to pour bleach on it to rid the carpet of the smell, and the sight of a bleach spot seemed more acceptable than a blood stain.

They were interrupted by Mr. Dodger, who had not surprisingly made dinner and invited them both over. They found Precious already waiting for them in the old man's apartment. James wasn't surprised to find old World War 2 mementoes decorating nearly every wall, closely followed by pictures and presents from his family. During dinner Dodger entertained them with stories that may or may not have been true from his years in the military, while Precious added in amusing anecdotes about her life in a kooky family.

They finished off the day with another movie, this time James picked it out, and to her credit Frankie didn't fall asleep. After the movie they played cards until Frankie lost so many times she started sulking. James of course placated her by allowing her to drop a few ice cubes down his shirt—and he was smart enough to not let her know that he allowed her to do so.

She went to bed on her own again while James went to his own room to do some more correspondence. However, once her dreams started he shut down his computer and slipped into his pjs. He knew he didn't need to ask before slipping into bed beside her. He found it fascinating that she somehow sensed when he was there even when she was asleep because almost immediately her body would settle down and her breathing would return to normal. Of course a few times he would have to wake up her up to let her know it was just a dream but other than that there were no problems.

The following day James received word from Felix. There was new information on Greene's whereabouts. James slipped out before Frankie rose to meet Felix. When he reached the coffee shop he wasn't disappointed to find Felix already sitting waiting for him. He nodded a greeting before ordering an espresso and taking it to his seat.

"So what's new?" James shook his hand before sitting down opposite him.

Felix's eyes twinkled slightly, "You know, the usual CIA intrigue and mischief that the tabloids try to convince the public is true."

James chuckled and nodded. It would be easy to beat around the bush with chit chat, but neither of them appeared to be in the mood for such. It only took a good thirty minutes for Leiter to key James into the new information and only ten minutes longer for a plan to be set in place. When the meeting finished James bid his friend goodbye, snagged a tea for Frankie, and nearly jogged back to the apartment. He found her wide awake and eating fruit once he arrived

"I'm actually glad you didn't think to buy me any coffee," she commented after he handed her her drink, "I hate it. Much more of a tea and juice drinker myself."

James chuckled as he leaned across the table and kissed her forehead, "Well I'm glad my lapse of judgment turned out to be a good thing."

He snagged a strawberry from her plate and barely missed getting stabbed by her fork in the process. He only grinned at her while he chewed. She rolled her eyes in response and went back to reading the newspaper while she ate. He, seeing that he'd been 'dismissed,' moved around the bar to sit in the stool beside her.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to excuse myself from going out with you anywhere today. I met up with an old friend and he gave me a lot of information that I need to pass on to my office back in the UK."

Frankie raised an eyebrow, "You're going after Greene aren't you?"

"How did you guess?" there was no point in lying to her since she knew everything anyway.

Frankie shrugged, "Just the way you spoke and your body language. It reminded me of how you acted around the other agents and the police. It was rather obvious you were keeping something back."

"Agent Ennis and Philips have assigned a uniform to watch the building day and night while I'm gone."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Hopefully only a day or two. Will you be alright while I'm gone?"

Frankie grinned, "I survived how many years before you came into my life?"

James chuckled and shook his head. He kissed her forehead again before moving down the hallway to gather his gear. He was ready and at the door only fifteen minutes later. He paused with his hand on the doorknob when he heard her call his name. He turned towards her, his face blank of emotions though he certainly felt many. He watched as she stood from the stool and walked towards him. He didn't know what her intentions were until she leaned against him, wrapping her good arm around his waist and buried her face in his neck. He smiled slightly, his own arms coming around her waist and resting on her lower back.

"Just don't die on me." She turned her head up to stare at him. "I'm not finished with you yet."

James grinned and winked at her, trying to keep it light. She didn't respond the way he thought she would. Instead of chuckling at his actions she instead leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. Her eyes were closed but he kept his open. He wanted to watch her as she kissed him. He saw relaxation, trust, and something soft lingering at the corners of her closed eyes. He didn't want to think about any of that. He needed to get out and get busy. He needed…she opened her mouth against his lips and he was taken aback when he felt her tongue brush lightly across his lips.

Of course he couldn't resist such a luscious offering. He closed his arms and tightened his hold as he bent more fully into the kiss, his own mouth opening in response, his tongue searching out hers. The kiss wasn't mind numbingly passionate, but it was full of tenderness and hope. It held her hope for a future with him and it held his tenderness towards her. He didn't know if it was the tenderness or the hope that made him stop and step back. He gave her a once over before gruffly turning and opening the door. He didn't shut it, merely walked down the hallway, never looking back.


	13. A Wrench In the Plans

Pain. Teetering on the edge of death. That was all he knew. He didn't know how many hours or days had passed since he'd been caught, lured in by Greene. Frankie was going to be the death of him, he knew this now. Greene had used her, again, and now he was being tortured until his presence could lure in other agents that would be tortured and destroyed as well. He'd failed, utterly and hopelessly failed. Greene had killed Frankie, thrown her fingers at him until he'd thrown up in despair. When would he ever quit failing? When would he stop killing those close to him with his own mistakes? His mind flashed back to the last time he'd seen Frankie then forward to how he'd been caught. He was a failure.

Another fist to the face blackened his world and he embraced the darkness that rose up to meet him...

* * *

Shots fired. Deafening explosions. Flashes of light, bursts of heat. Yelling and screaming. Voices coming through more clearly. Recognition. Frankie? She was alive? But...Greene had killed her. Hadn't he? What was she doing here? Through his swollen eyes he could barely make out the blurry shapes of people rushing towards him. He heard Smith, his cracked lips twisting into a smile. Leiter cut him loose. Ennis and Philips supported him. Everything passed in a haze. Blurred shapes, colors ran together, voices slurred. He was thrust into a car in Frankie's arms. He heard hurried voices, felt the car shoot forward. He felt Frankie's hands caress his face, trace over his shoulders, heard her muffled voice whispering inhoerant promises in his ear. He smiled again. Once again the rescuer had needed rescuing...

* * *

"He'll be ready to leave the hospital once I clear him, and I'm not planning on clearing him for another day."

"He's already been here two days." He heard Smith say this.

"That's precisely why he should remain another day."

James cracked his eyes open and quickly took in his surroundings. Hospital room. Leiter talking with doctor near door. Frankie in chair by his bed. Smith standing by window looking out. He shifted, taking note of stiff muscles, sharp pains, and the reassurance that he was alive. Frankie immediately leaned forward and took his hand. A reassurance that she was alive. He refrained from what he desperately wanted to do and instead he squeezed her hand before looking past her to Leiter and the doctor.

"I'm fine, doctor." He frowned at how pathetic his vocie sounded.

He heard Smith snort, "Yes, about as fine as a worm in hot ashes." She came forward to stand by his bed. "You were about two feet away from death Bond. If Greene hadn't have tried to nab Frankie again we never would've found you." Smith laid a hand on Frankie's shoulder and he noted a glint of admiration in Smith's eyes. "But this woman here allowed herself to be the bait to our evil fish and we found you."

"What?" He growled out, accusing eyes shooting from Smith to Leiter and finally fell on Frankie, who was the only one decent enough to squirm under his wrath.

"You heard me." Smith pulled her hand back and glared at James. "If you hadn't gone trapsing off by yourself then none of this would've happened. Just had to rush in without me didn't you? Had to have all the glory? Had to satisfy your blood lust." She crossed her arms and growled. "Not that I'm one to talk but I guess it takes one blockhead to know another."

"James." Frankie spoke up, her voice calm inspite of the situation. "You disappeared. Mr. Leiter here contacted me telling me about what happened and together we came up with the plan. I would be bait to Greene, allow him to take me, and then Leiter and his men would follow and spring you and I free whilst nabbing Greene in the process."

"Sounds like a bloody foolproof plan. Did anyone stop to think about Frankie's lack of training in this area? Did anyone think about her safety?" He felt bile rise in his throat as he thought about how easily Frankie could've been hurt and how pathetic he'd been, incapicitated and helpless.

"James we, I, understood the risks but I found it to be worthwhile." Frankie sounded determined and he noted a hard glint in her eyes.

"We got Greene, however he died from the explosion. Most of his men were either killed or are in custody." Leiter finally spoke up, the doctor having left moments before. "We also found you. Frankie was unharmed when we got her, didn't give Greene time enough to hurt her. In all, Frankie is right James, the risk was worth taking since everyone came out the winner in the end."

"The good guys won, Bond, so get your head out of your ass and move on." Smith pointedly looked from him to Frankie and then back to him again. "This case is closed and we can move on now."

James raised his eyebrows, "You don't sound very convincing Smith are you telling me this or trying to reassure yourself here?"

Smith flipped him the birdie but he noted a playful yet serious tug at her lips. Frankie smiled slightly, her eyes tired. Leiter merely watched with a blank expression.

"Your office called James, they want you to call back ASAP." Leiter spoke up again.

James rolled his shoulders, "Do they know about what happened?"

"Yes."

"Do they know I'm awake?"

"No."

James smiled, "Then I think they can wait a little while longer."

Leiter chuckled, Smith grinned, and Frankie nodded.

"I think we'll leave you to your recovery." Smith squeezed Frankie's shoulder, gave James a playful salut then walked towards the door, tugging on Leiter's sleeve as she moved. "See you around Bond, but I'd rather not any time soon if you understand what I mean."

"I understand perfectly and have similar sentiments Smith. Take care of yourself."

She chuckled as she waited for Leiter by the door, "I will if you will."

"See you later James." Leiter turned to Frankie and shook her good hand, "It was a pleasure working with you Miss O'Connor but I hope we don't have to do so again any time soon."

Frankie smiled, "I hope so too. Take care Mr. Leiter."

Smith and Leiter left then, leaving James and Frankie in a tense silence.

"I really wasn't harmed James, pushed around a little, threatened a lot, but not hurt." She gave him a once over and frowned. "The same can't be said about you though. Why did you rush in like that instead of waiting for Smith and the others?"

James looked away from her face to the window and the dreary world outside, "Greene lured me in."

"What do you mean?"

"He knew I was there, he knew where my weakness was."

"James what are you talking about?"

James looked back to her, "He said he had you. He used you to get to me. I honestly though he had you, Frankie, once he had me he kept throwing body parts at me, torturing me with you." He closed his eyes then looked away again. "You were my weakness Frankie, you are my weakness."

She was quiet for a few minutes. In that time frame he sat up, asked for his computer, and began typing up reports while she busied herself with something.

"James."

He didn't look up from his computer.

"I know you resent the fact that I'm a weakness to you."

He still didn't look up, though his jaw clenched at her words.

"I also know that you hate yourself for getting captured and you more than likely feel pathetic for not being able to protect me for even such a short amount of time."

He finally looked at her, all his anger and self-loathing in his eyes.

"But I want you to know that you're not being fair to either of us by taking all the blame on yourself." She sighed and looked down at her lap. "I'm going home. If you want a ride from the hospital tomorrow let me know. If you plan on leaving earlier than expected, please let me know. But I'm going to go now. I think you need space to work and think." She stood and looked like she wanted to say and do more but decided not to at the last moment. "Good night James."

He didn't say anything as he watched her leave. Once she was gone he closed his eyes and let out the breath he'd been holding. Why was everything so fu-

"Bond are you there?"

He opened his eyes to find M staring out of his computer screen at him.

"Yes ma'am."

"I was kept abreast of the proceedings. Your friend in the CIA told me that the doctor plans on releasing you tomorrow." She looked down at her desk then back up at the camera again. "We have leads on Yusef's whereabouts. We need you back."

James clenched his jaw, "I'll be back by the end of the week. I have a few things I need to wrap up here."

"The American?"

"There are other issues I need to attend to but yes that is one thing I need to take care of."

"Dare I say I told you so Bond?"

"I wouldn't want to deprive you of the pleasure of rubbing your superior knowledge in my face ma'am."

"Don't get cheeky with me Bond." She again glanced down at the desk. "Good to hear from you Bond. We'll pick you up at the airport on Friday."

The connection closed and James was left alone in the hopsital room again. He had a lot to think about, and none of it was going to be pretty.


	14. Coming to terms

He took a taxi back to the apartment but was barred from Frankie's room by a sullen looking cat. He looked up from the cat to find Dodger standing just outside his door.

"Care to come in for a cuppa?" He disappeared back into his apartment, the cat trotting in after him, and James got the feeling that that was not a request but a polite order.

He closed the door behind him once he stepped inside. He glanced around the apartment again before joinging Dodger in his sitting area with a steaming cup of tea set in front of his seat.

"Now Frankie hasn't told me anything, in fact to her I'm just a nice old man." Dodger sipped at his tea briefly, observing James over his mug. "However I know Leiter. His old man and I served together on D-Day and for some time after that." James mentally cursed but outwardly merely nodded as he took hold of his own cup. "Because of that I'm more than aware of the proceedings of the past few days. I can only assume that you are now going to wrap up any loose ends here in the States, including your relationship with Frankie, the scuttle on back to your life back in Britain. Am I right?"

James circled both hands around his mug, "I mean no disrespect, Mr. Dodger, but what do you care if I leave now? I would think that you would want me out of Frankie's life now and always."

"Oh I do think that your presence in her life is dangerous and her feelings for you are impetuous despite her better judgement," Dodger again sipped at his tea, "However I also know that you have a chance at redemption within your relationship with her."

"What are you getting at?" James refrained from throwing the mug at the wall over Dodger's head like he so dearly wanted to.

"I found redemption in my wife almost too late, Mr. Bond. She found me a broken and very cynical man, bent on self-destruction and full of self-loathing. I-"

"Mr. Dodger I am not you, nor will I ever be. You are putting your own experiences upon me trying to tell me that I should do what you did and settle down with a nice girl. I am not prepared at this time to do that, and honestly I don't think I ever will be. Yes I am broken, yes I am cyncial, and yes I am hell bent on self destruction at times, however I have a duty to my country and it is through this duty that I have found purpose. You would not begrudge a man of that feeling now would you Mr. Dodger?" James set the mug down. "Frankie is a very nice woman, a woman who deserves much more than I ever will be. I am doing her a favor by leaving, you and I both know that. Sure she'll go through a time of sadness, perhaps she'll ever grow bitter from this experience, but it is for the best for both of us. Surely you understand that? I know she will, eventually." At least he dearly hoped she would.

The older man said nothing for a few moments before he to set his mug down, "If that is the case then I wish you luck Mr. Bond. I won't apologize though, I've never apologized to anyone other than my wife and I plan to keep it that way. It was interesting meeting you." He stood and escorted James to the door where he held out his hand. "I do wish you'd reconsider your decision though."

James clenched his jaw as he gave the man a tense handshake, "You know my opinion on the matter Mr. Dodger. Good day and good life."

* * *

James was surprised when Frankie practically launched herself at him as soon as she opened the door to find him standing there. He barely had time to react to her hug before she started kissing him with abandon. He was the one who had to push inside the doorway in order to allow them more privacy. It would have been easy to let the kiss take them further but James didn't know what she was up to and he knew they had many things to discuss and understand between one another.

"Not that I don't like being greeted like this," he finally spoke once he managed to pull back enough for air, "but I think we've got a few things to discuss."

She dropped her arms with a scowl, "Drat I hoped that would've distracted you long enough to forget it all."

He smiled as he cupped her chin and lightly kissed her lips, "It almost worked I'll have you know."

"Good. But what is that needs to discussed? We both know you're leaving, though I'm probably the only one in the dark as to when, and of course there is the why behind the leaving that could be discussed. And of course the inevitable question of whether or not I'll remain a part of your life once you reach England again." She crossed her arms over her chest and he saw her try to put on a brave air. "Did I cover all the coming subjects or did I miss something?"

"You about got it all. How about we sit down for this eh?" He gestured towards the sofa and was relieved when she moved of her own accord though he wasn't too pleased when she took a seat on the love seat instead of on the sofa with him. "Now...I heard from my office and it seems that we have new leads on my case and because of this they need me back by the end of the week." She nodded and he saw a trace of disappointment in her eyes but continued. "The why has been disclosed but...well you already mentioned my resentment of your being my weakness, and you already mentioned my habit to loath myself any time someone gets close to me and then promptly gets hurt. We both understand that in my line of work it is better to be an apathetic bastard than a kind gentleman. I can't afford to have you make me into that kind gentleman, Frankie, and that's what began to happen here." He waved a hand between them and then sighed. "I honestly don't think I can keep in contact with you once I reach England. I can't afford to have such duality of mind. Every mission I went on I'd wonder if it could someone find you, if they would find you and use you against me." He bowed his head, drew his hands through his hair then looked up at her again. "You understand don't you Frankie?"

She was quiet for longer than he would've liked but when she answered he could tell that he hadn't been the only one pondering their situation the previous night.

"I knew this would happen from the beginning James. No disservice to either of us, but I always felt that getting involved with you would be like getting involved with a revolving door. It always comes back to the same issue, or issues as it stands. You can't afford to have me be apart of your life and I can't afford to let you walk over my heart." She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I'll be honest and say that I think you're a complete selfish bastard for thinking that I'm not worth the risk of keeping me in your life, but I'll also be honest and say that the idea of knowing you constantly risk yourself for 'queen and country' makes me uneasy. So I guess our parting is for the best, for both of us." She gave a wobbly smile and he immediatley knew that a lot of what she was saying she was just saying to put him at ease but he'd be damned if he actually wanted to hear all the truth from her now. "So...that gives us the rest of today and tomorrow to spend time together. I don't know about you but I'm tired of all this drama."

He chuckled, "I second that."

"In that case, grab your hat and lets go." She stood and moved to her hallway closet to retrieve her coat.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you to all my favorite places. Then tonight there's a ballet at the theater that I'd like to go to, though what we can do tomorrow afternoon I'm not sure of yet. However today I know exactly where we're going. You won't need hiking shoes but I hope those shoes feel good walking around in."

He smiled, "They're fine. But don't I have a say in where we go tomorrow night since you've obviously got today all planned?"

"Sure, surprise me." She grabbed her purse and moved past him to stand by the door. "Let's go handsome."

"Yes beautiful." He kissed her cheek as he passed by.

* * *

They went to the zoo first. Taking lots of pictures and flashing lots of smiles, James did his best to remain jovial for Frankie's sake. He got the feeling that she was remaining jovial for his sake. After the zoo they picnicked in her favorite park with Precious and Mr. Dodger, again taking lots of pictures. He and Frankie ended up playfully wrestling over the last piece of pie Mr. Dodger had donated to the proceeds. Precious of course sided with Frankie and helped her pin him down so that Frankie could victoriously eat the pie whilst straddling his hips. He didn't complain though, it was definitely worth the loss. After that Dodger and Precious disappeared while Frankie took him to all her favorite historical sites in the city. They ate dinner in a cafe near the theater. Dodger and Precious met up with them for the ballet and they all sat together. It was a comedy, thankfully, and they all laughed a lot, Frankie more than the rest. They shared a taxi back to the apartment. Then they spent the rest of the evening playing board games, listening to more stories from Mr. Dodger and Precious, and then dancing some more once the visitors disappeared.

This time he stepped closer to her, and she didn't seem to mind in the least. He wanted to soak up every opportunity he had to touch her, to be with her. She seemed inclined to do the same with him. And so it wasn't really surprising when they started to kiss. Nor was it surprising when the kiss became more heated. Nor was it surprising them they began to tumble down the hallway. James, however, wanted to give her a little respite so she could properly decide. So he ended up pinning her against the wall, both of them breathing heavily while he leaned his forehead against hers.

"I want you think about this Frankie." His voice was low as his body near trembled with desire. "Do you really want this? I don't want you to regret being with me, and I don't want you to just fall into bed with me because I'll be leaving. Don't do this if you're going to wake up with regret."

His words seemed to quiet her fervor, as well as his own. She didn't let go of him, her arms still wrapped around his neck, but she did leaned her head against the wall. She closed her eyes and took steadying breaths, James quickly following suit. When she opened her eyes, still bright with desire, she appeared more in control of herself.

"I don't think having sex with you tonight would be a good idea." He nodded at her words, though he was disappointed. "It would partially be because you're leaving and I would wake up with regret." James nodded again, leaning his forehead against hers once more. "But its also because I would want to make love to you, not have sex with you, and I don't think either of us could commit to making love at this point in time."

He stiffened at her words for a moment before sighing and nodded. After a few moments longer he stood up straight again, "Its late, we should get some sleep."

She nodded, shivering slightly when he stepped away from her. He went into his own room to change, lingering a bit longer in indecision. When she appeared in the doorway he was only a little surprised.

"Could you still sleep with me though?" she sounded so vulnerable that James wanted to wrap her up in his arms and assure her that everything would be fine.

He only nodded in response, following her into her bedroom and settling into bed almost immediately after she did. She didn't move closer to him at first but after a few indecisive moments she finally did and James was pleased with her movements. Perhaps they fell asleep simultaneously because he knew nothing until the next morning.


	15. The Last Day and Night

Over breakfast it was decided that they would spend the first half of the day finishing off Frankie's favorite places then the second half and the evening would be James' department, and he wasn't giving anything away on his plans for the evening.

"Alright you arrogant prat, what's up with you? Aren't you going give me any hints?"

James frowned and walked up to face her."I resent that remark."

Frankie shivered, from what James could only guess. "Rather resemble in my opinion."

"You're impossible." James whined as he moved past her into the hallway.

Frankie followed behind him. "Aw poor James. He's finally met a woman who is what appears to be impossible to seduce. Are you losing your touch Bond?"

James frowned as he continued down the hallway Why did she always bait him like that? He wasn't seriously upset but she always teased and baited him. Was that her form of flirting instead of the fluttering her eyelashes and pawing his body like most women? James smirked to himself as he turned to face her. He had a theory now he just had to experiment with it. He moved forward until his chest was brushing hers, his hands resting on her hips. He lowered his head until his lips were resting against her skin where her neck met her shoulders. She didn't say anything, and in fact didn't move in favor of or against of his movements. He swallowed and continued on with his experiment. He figured she was the type that he would have to carefully assertive with. Not overly aggressive but definitely not passive like he had been so far. He carefully smoothed his fingers against her belly as he slowly brushed his lips back and forth across her skin. He felt her shiver again and smiled. That was a good sign.

"James?" her voice was a bit lower than usual.

"Hmm?" He didn't feel like talking.

"What are you doing?" Frankie continued. "Not that I'm not enjoying the attention I'm just confused as to your motives and what you expect to gain from it. I know that's not the most romantic or ideal thing to hear from me at this particular moment but you know me…I get preoccupied with thoughts like that."

James chuckled. He could take offense at her musings; he could get frustrated with her and walk away; he could even tell her that she was silly for not just going with feelings instead of thinking so much. However, her musings were a vital part of what made her who she was and he didn't want to change her. He wanted her to heal and grow to trust herself, and him more, but he didn't want to force her to change unless she was ready.

"Well if you must know," he gently maneuvered her until she was leaning against the wall and he was gently looming over her, "I had a theory that your form of flirtation was through teasing while other women tease but also do more through overtly sexual flirtation in addition to teasing. You, however, are different due to your past. I just guessed that maybe if I was more assertive with my attention, but not aggressively so, you would respond in a more 'soft' manner than just chuckles and head shakes." While he talked he traced his finger tips across her unhurt collarbone and around her neck area.

Frankie shivered again, smiling softly, "You are a pretty good guesser. Now will you allow me to pass and go pop some popcorn so we can watch a movie or do I have to endure more of your experiments?"

A brief image of her tied to a bed naked and him looming over with a delighted grin on his face. He shook his head to clear it as he stepped back enough for her to move on down the hallway, a pleased smile on her lips. James suddenly felt like a cigarette but tightened his jaw instead of going in search of one. If it weren't for his great desire for adventure and intrigue, his need for something beyond the normal, he could stay with Frankie. He knew she would be okay with that. She would probably welcome it actually. She'd already made it quite plain to him that she was very vulnerable to his actions and intentions. To have a woman like Frankie loving him would totally change his life. It would turn it upside down and turn it around. He wasn't ready for that, not in the least.

They watched one of her favorite movies then readied themselves for the early afternoon on the town. Time must have had wings because in no time he glanced at his watch and saw that they would be late to his appointment if they didn't hurry. He hailed a taxi and soon they were off.

"So where are you taking me?" She asked once they were settled in the taxi.

James' lips twisted into a seductive smile, "Well first off I'm taking you shopping for a dress."

"You looked through my closet and found all the ones I already own to your distaste?"

"No," James shook his head at her but continued to smile, "I just want to buy you a dress."

Frankie shrugged, "Okay. After you buy me said dress what are we doing?"

"Then I'll buy you shoes and a necklace."

Frankie turned in her seat to glare at him, "James I'm not a doll to be dressed up! For goodness sake man why don't you ask me before you tell me you're going to spend money on me? What if I don't like to wear necklaces or I don't want a new dress?"

"Do you like to wear necklaces?" His voice was calm.

Frankie sighed, "Only for very nice occasions."

"Do you want a new dress?"

Frankie frowned and crossed her arm over her chest as she faced forward again, "Bastard."

"I know." He smiled over at her and patted her knee. "But you enjoy it."

Her lips twitched, aching to turn into a smile, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead she shrugged and turned to look out the window, only smiling when her face was turned away. James, however, saw her reflection in the window and smiled as well. It didn't take too long before they pulled up in front of a relatively modest priced boutique featuring a range of dresses from psychotically formal to average formal to really nice day dresses. Frankie only eyed James as he entered the shop and spoke to the woman waiting inside. Frankie wandered around the shop while they spoke then turned and faced James when he came back to her.

"You trust me right?"

Frankie looked at his playful yet serious face and sighed, "Of course."

"Good." He took her by the hand and led her to the dressing room. "Then try on everything that is handed to you." He gently shoved her inside.

Frankie turned around and glared at him, "What if I don't like it?"

James leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose, "Then I won't buy it."

He closed the curtains in her face and she sighed. Thankfully it didn't take too long—only two hours—before James and Frankie agreed on a dress. They'd gone through nearly ten dresses before said dress appeared in the mix, but the women of the shop didn't seem bothered by it, they knew a committed customer when they saw one. The boutique even had a modestly sized shoe collection and to Frankie's relief—who happened to hate shoe shopping—they found matching shoes to her gown. James told her he would surprise her with the necklace later on that night and took her home to get ready.

"Are you even going to tell me where we're going tonight?" She asked as he helped her take the bags inside the apartment.

James just smiled, "Nope. Be ready by seven and I'll pick you up here. I have to go get something appropriate to wear." He winked at her before disappearing down the hallway.

She was ready by six thirty and chose to not go down until seven o five just to be difficult. Besides she wanted to draw out her entrance, at least that's what he guessed from the way she emerged from the building. She really did love the dress he'd bought her. It was a long dress, all the way to her ankles, and it was silky to the touch. With an empire waist and fitted seams it hung around her torso attractively without making her look like a pregnant woman—which many empire waist dresses did to many women. The top portion of the dress was white and the bottom portion black. The skirt had a black lace over slip that hung over the silky skirt and on the black lace were white embroidered flowers towards the bottom and moving all around the skirt. The top and bottom were separated by a black lacey belt with a white buckle in the front. Her top had lacey sleeves and came all the way down to her wrists and the neck line was heart shaped. She'd curled her hair and left it down, with only one side pulled back with a black metal hair clip that had white flowers dotting its surface. Her makeup was simple, a little eye shadow, mascara, some lipstick, and very little blush. The shoes were black, closed toe with a modest heel—not quite stiletto but definitely not flats either—with a lace overlay.

James leaned against the rental as he watched her glide down the stairs. Even though she still wore the sling it didn't detract too much from the stunning allure of her appearance. When she stood mere inches from him, her face alight with pleasure, James gave in to his impulse and leaned forward to kiss her.

"You look simple divine tonight Frankie." He lightly brushed his lips on the sensitive skin behind her ear before placing his hands on her shoulders. "Turn around. I want to give you your necklace."

Frankie nodded and turned. James watched as goose bumps peppered her skin after he laid the cool metal of the necklace against her throat. She looked down and was delighted to find a silver necklace of interlocking flowers, matching the one of her gown, with little diamonds for petals. It barely hung past her collar bone. She traced her fingertips over it before turning around and flashing James a smile. He knew he looked downright sexy in his tuxedo, complete with a white flower in his coat pocket; yes, he was arrogant enough to admit his own sex appeal to himself.

"You look very handsome yourself." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, her fingers still touching the necklace. "Thank you James, it is beautiful."

James nodded and moved past her to open the car door, "After you."

Frankie smiled as she got in, turning the car on while James moved around to get in the drivers' side. They chit-chatted about nonsense as James drove to the more ritzy side of town—the side she rarely ventured to eat, let alone walk. He pulled up in front of a very expensive looking Italian restaurant. She didn't say anything though, only flashed him a beaming smile as they walked towards the entrance.

The lighting was low and romantic and there was a live band complete with singers playing smooth jazzy music. It was a nice change to the usual trademark Dean Martin songs that most Italian restaurants had. The room was full of individual booths but each was separated by greenery, fountains, and little rivers. The sound of the trickling water was soothing, especially mixed with the jazz music. The waiter led them to a table by the window, relatively close to the dance area but far enough away from other couples to where they'd be able to talk without being bothered.

She didn't have to bother with ordering, James had pre-ordered everything and within minutes of sitting down they had salads, a special type of rice based bread, and wine. Frankie could only stare at James with a goofy smile on her face for a few moments after the waiter left them with their appetizers.

"What?" He casually asked as he passed her a piece of bread before taking one for himself.

Frankie leaned back and quickly applauded him, "You are getting some major points Mr. Bond. Not only did you treat this girl to beautiful clothes and necklace but you have also kept her diet in mind by ordering only food items she wouldn't die from eating. In addition, you have brought her to a very beautifully designed restaurant with romantic lighting and soft music." She stopped applauding and leaned forward to grasp her wine glass, raising it in a salute to him. "If I didn't know better, James, I'd think you were either wooing me into a one night stand."

"It could never be a one night stand with you Frankie, I thought I explained that to you."

Frankie smiled and nodded, nibbling on her salad as she listened to him. He saw her wince slightly and he raised his eyebrows.

"You okay?"

Frankie refocused her gaze on his concerned eyes and smiled, "I bit my cheek."

"It's best if you don't do that." He smiled at her and she only glared back. "In any case, I have a request to make of you."

Frankie waved her fork slightly, "Go ahead."

"You are only allowed to have fun tonight and to not worry about the future or past. You will not question my motives or your own and you will only focus on how you are feeling right NOW and not within the next ten or fifteen minutes."

Frankie's eyes widened, "I don't know if that is physically possible with me James."

"Frankie…can you at least try? For me?" He gave her the saddest excuse of puppy-dog-eyes known to mankind.

"Okay, just don't pull that face on me again."

"Worked well didn't it?" He waggled his eyebrows at her and she snorted.

"You looked like a combination of a love sick giraffe and a constipated chimpanzee actually." She grinned at his offended look. "Can we eat now?"

James chuckled and they shared a smile before carrying on with their dinner. They talked about the music being played, the general atmosphere, their preferences for romantic settings, some of their worst dates in the past, and of course some of their more awkward dating situations as well. The meal passed comfortably and by the time they finished dessert and were drinking after dinner tea Frankie was surprised at how easy it had been, and was, to just relax and enjoy the moment with him.

"Do you want to dance?" His question brought her eyes up to his face and he smiled at her expression—much akin to a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

"Not in public, no. Why? You aren't thinking of asking me to dance in front of all these strangers are you? Because I can tell you right now, it's a flat out no." She set her tea cup down a bit more forcefully than she'd intended to.

"Why ever not?" He raised his eyebrows over his tea cup as he took a sip.

Frankie nibbled her lower lip, "Well because the last time I danced on a date the guy told me he had never had his feet stepped on so much in his life and that it would do me some serious good to take lessons or warn my future partner before dancing again."

"He was an ass, Frankie. I wouldn't complain if you stabbed my toes with your heels." He smiled. "I may wince but I wouldn't complain."

Frankie chuckled and shook her head, "I know but I'd really rather not dance in public. Maybe when we get back to the apartment I'll be more willing to comply with your request."

"Okay," James held up his hands in defeat but had a pleasant smile on his face, "I'll hold you to that though."

"I figured you would." Frankie smiled in return.

After their tea was finished James paid the bill and they left, heading towards a nearby park to walk for a few minutes. They held hands, James request and Frankie's willing compliance.

"Are you cold?" They had walked in silence but he broke it when he saw her flesh pimple with goose bumps.

"No, I'm perfectly fine actually. Why, are you cold?" Frankie slyly grinned at him. "I don't have a coat to offer you but I could walk closer if it'll help."

James chuckled as he pulled her closer to his side, sliding his hand to wrap around her waist, his hand resting on her hip. She only smiled and mirrored the gesture, easily falling into step with him.

"What are your plans once I leave?"

Frankie tipped her head to the side, "Well work, obviously, and reading, and eating and sleeping. Life goes on after you James Bond, and I think it's about time you realized that." She playfully punched his arm with a laugh.

James feigned a pained look and rubbed his arm, "Frankie! That's so harsh. You wound me terribly and I'll never recover."

"The only thing wounded is your pride and ego and that could use a little pummeling from time to time if you ask me."

James laughed, his eyes crinkled up in a large smile, "I don't think there's anyone else like you in the world Frankie."

"I certainly hope not," Frankie shook her head, "one of me is bad enough as it is. Two of me and the world would turn upside down."

"If there were more of you I think I'd stay out of trouble more often, to tell the truth." James smiled playfully at Frankie's frown.

"I don't think anyone can keep you out of trouble, James. Only you can keep yourself out of trouble and right now you aren't very interested in staying out of trouble. Trouble is your middle name and you'd chafe at a life of mediocre existence that the rest of us live." Frankie continued to smile though her words were very serious. "There's nothing wrong with that, right now, but eventually I can't help but wonder if you will look back on your life and wonder if maybe there was something more to life than living from one dangerous situation to another."

James fell silent, his smile falling as well. They continued to walk in silence as he gathered his thoughts, and Frankie didn't push for him to talk. After some time he finally spoke again, his eyes traveling over the beautiful landscape around them.

"I agree with you on a few parts. Yes, I itch for the adrenaline rush of danger and I wouldn't go so far as to say I enjoy the killing and mayhem of my job but I do enjoy the challenge that I face every time I wake up on a mission. I don't see myself regretting my work any time soon but maybe, decades from now, I'll have to retire from the job due to work related injuries, and maybe then I'll live in Africa taming lions or something."

Frankie chuckled at the mental image of James facing a lion, "You can't seduce a lion, James, so I don't think you can tame it."

"You think all my power is in my pants don't you?" He stared at her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

Frankie lowered her head, "I think you put a lot of stock in the physical side of things in regards to gathering information, and the sad thing is that you are correct in that action. More people crave touch than any other thing and you just use that craving against them. I guess I can't fault you for being cunning as a fox and sly as a dog." She looked up with a grin. "I suppose that's a kind way of calling you a dog."

"So kind of you." He touched his hand over his heart and bowed his head. "I'm sure my superior would whole heartedly agree with your name calling and actually encourage a few more names and sucker punches."

Frankie laughed. They drove back then, picking up some ice cream and more popcorn on the way. Frankie wanted to watch the late night movie and James was happy to comply—knowing that she enjoyed sitting close together when watching movies and there was always the chance that she'd fall asleep in his lap again.

"So are we going to dance before or after the movie?" Frankie had her shoes off almost the second she was inside her apartment, calling over her shoulder at James who watched her movements with obvious amusement.

"Well since you're going to change to watch the movie I want to dance now, with us both dressed up." He loosened his bow tie and took off his coat, casually dropping it over the back of the couch. "Call me a hopeless romantic but I'd rather dance with you in that dress than in your pajamas."

Frankie chuckled and nodded, moving to her stereo set to pick out appropriate music. She found one of her slow mix CDs and popped it in. The first song was too sexy in her opinion, and he laughed at her because of it. So she changed it to the second and Etta James started to play, "I'll Be Seeing You." She figured it was appropriate for the situation and turned around with a smile.

"That's fitting." James nodded in approval as he moved to stand in the middle of the living room.

Frankie smiled, "Yup."

He pulled her closer and politely placed his hand on her upper back and took hold of her hand. They fell into step together and Frankie stared at her feet for the first few minutes, making sure she didn't hurt him. When the next song, a little faster, came on, James made her look in his face as he pulled her around the room. He was a good dancer and he made it easy to follow. They danced for basically the rest of the CD and when it ended Frankie was grinning and James smiled back at her. When the CD ended they still stood with their arms around each other, swaying slightly. She looked for the world like she wanted to kiss him, fall into his arms and let him take her to another world, figuratively speaking. But they both knew she wouldn't, and that he couldn't, at least not now. They both sighed, Frankie more obviously than he, as they extracted themselves from one another. As she headed down to her bedroom to change he went into the kitchen. When she came back into the living room the TV was on the correct channel, the popcorn was laid out, drinks were sitting on the coffee table, and James sat in his own pjs patiently waiting.

"You are so totally awesome!" She plopped down beside him and promptly took a handful of popcorn and started to shove it into her mouth.

James chuckled at her enthusiastic eating, "I try."

"And you don't always succeed."

"No more popcorn for you." He swiped the bowl fromt he table and held it over his head away from her.

Frankie lunged after the bowl, "Hey! Give that back!"

"Only if you kiss me."

Frankie sighed, "Who needs popcorn anyway?"

"Come on," James pouted, "play by the rules."

Frankie picked up his hand and kissed it, grinning at him afterwards, "You didn't specify where. Now give it back."

James pouted some more before handing her the bowl. She contentedly munched on the popcorn, getting it all over both of them, while he merely grinned at both her and the movie. Later, at some point in time she'd ended up basically in his lap with his arms surrounding her comfortably and her head resting back against his shoulder. He was burrowed against the corner of the couch and their legs twined together as they stretched towards the opposite end of the couch. It was very comfortable, and quite nice, but it was also sinfully tempting. It would be so easy to give into his desires right now, so easy. But alas they couldn't go there, not if they wanted to come out of this unscathed, for the most part.

He didn't know how but at some point in time he fell asleep. Now 99.9% of all the other women he'd been with would've totally taken advantage of the fact that he'd fallen asleep and was left vulnerable to her hands and imagination. But that wasn't what Frankie did. Instead he woke up to her stroking her fingers over his face, her kind eyes taking in his every feature.

"Oh," He slowly came to, much different from his usual jerk awake technique, "I didn't realize I'd fallen asleep."

Frankie smiled, "Well the movie was so riveting I'm not surprised you did."

James quirked an eyebrow at her, not quite remembering what movie they'd been watching, then shrugged finding that he didn't quite care. In fact, he didn't really care about much of anything other than that very moment. Frankie was relaxed, in his arms, and they were alone and safe for once.

"So what do you want to do next?" He stretched his arms and back, nearly causing Frankie to tumble to the floor.

Frankie clutched at his waist to keep from falling, amusement in her eyes, "Well not falling on the ground would be preferable, and after that I'm not sure you'll be awake for much more of anything."

James chuckled before settling more comfortably against the cushions of the couch and drawing Frankie close again. He was perfectly content to lay there for a few more hours. She seemed to be as well since she wasn't struggling or flaring her nose like she did sometimes when she was displeased with one of his actions.

"So what time is your flight?" Frankie could've chosen a nicer topic, they both knew that, but instead she cut to the chase.

"Three in the afternoon. Will you see me off at the airport?"

Frankie smiled, "Of course, you nitwit, knowing you, you'd probably get into a few fights, cause a few accidents, and seduce at least two women before you got on your flight."

"Do you honestly see me that way?" James was smiling in amusement despite the seriousness of his words.

Frankie tipped her head to the side to look at him more clearly. She reached up and traced her fingertips along his jaw line, watching in fascination as his jaw muscles worked and his throat moved as he swallowed. After the momentary distraction of touching him, she shook off the glazed feeling that'd come over her and smiled.

"I think you still have goodness in you but you hide it beneath the sarcastic, cynical, bastardly, womanizing exterior because you've been hurt so many times and your profession calls for that type of attitude. However, given the right situation, the general fun loving, affectionate, and dare I say even romantic, side of you comes out." She tapped her finger against his chin. "So no, I don't think the womanizing bastard is ALL of you, just a large portion at this point in your life."

James nodded. He didn't respond for some time and neither seemed to be bothered by the silence. Outside they could hear the city, still awake, but inside they could only hear their mingling breaths and peaceful silence. Finally deciding that the bedroom was better suited for sleeping, James extracted himself and stood. He carried her into the bedroom and settled in beside her, pulling her close beside him. She fell asleep first and James was surprised when he felt the lull of slumber tug at his consciousness. He didn't want to sleep, but he knew he needed to. He smiled, kissing Frankie cheek, before settling back to fall asleep.


	16. Farewell to Frankie

He woke up to her kisses and sweet caresses. He feigned sleep for as long as possible but soon his enjoyment of her touches gave him away and she began to pull away. He'd have none of it, however, and pinned her hands against his chest. A good natured wrestling match ensued after this, complete with thrown pillows and the eventual catipultion from the bed on James' part. He chased her around the apartment, kissing her every time he caught her. Of course she wanted to be caught and kissed so it was more of a tumble this way for a new position tumble that way for another. By the time they fell back onto the dishelved bed they were both out of breath, flushed, and grinning.

"I think I like waking up like that." He spoke once they both caught their breath.

Frankie grinned, "I like waking you up like that."

She rolled over to curl up against his side. They both knew that they only had hours before he would leave her for good. It was probably that knowledge that kept them glued to each other's sides. It also kept them from talking about serious issues. Instead they spoke about nonsense with some snippets of seriousness thrown in. For James anytime one talked about hopes for the future it was both serious and fun at the same time. When his alarm went off they both jerked at the harsh reminder.

"I'll go make us something to eat." She gave him a lingering kiss before rolling out of bed and hurrying down the hallway.

He growled to himself before standing and moving into his bedroom. It didn't take long to pack, nor did it take long for Frankie to whip together something to eat for brunch. They didn't talk over breakfast, but they did sit very close together, occasionally brushing hands or legs together. With reluctance they left the apartment and James paid his respects to Mr. Dodger, completely taken off guard with Dodger gave him one of his medals. Dodger only explained that it was remember him by, but James understood that Dodger wanted to remember Frankie more than he. Precious came next and he wasn't surprised when she gave him a few colored pictures and a fierce hug. He felt bitterness at having to leave but he knew he'd never be able to stay. Frankie took him to a souvenirs' store and bought him a few knick knacks to remember Atlanta by. He only laughed as he accepted the gifts, knowing that he'd only put them in a box in his closet for his own sanity once he got home.

They got to the airport early and Frankie waited while he got checked in. Once that was taken care of, they lingered at café near the security entrance. Again neither really wanted to talk about his leaving but there was no way to pussy foot around it now.

"Do you think you'll come back to visit?" she broke the silence first.

James waited until after he took another sip of his coffee before he answered, "Right now, I'm leaning towards the no side of things."

Frankie only nodded, not looking up from her drink. James refrained from touching her, though he felt the desire to greatly.

"We'll probably never see each other again, Frankie. That's the brutal, honest truth of the matter. Our lives don't coincide with one another. Mine is too dangerous for you and yours is too average for me." He felt like an arse for being so blunt but it really was the truth. "I think we should both accept that and move on. You said earlier that life continues on after me. I hope you stick to that once I'm gone."

The overhead announcer informed them that his plane would be boarding in twenty minutes. He still had yet to go through security so he needed to hurry. She helped him throw their trash away and walked with him over to the security entrance. She looked indecisive about something. James merely smiled at her and turned away to head through security, not knowing any other way to say goodbye. He was stopped when he felt her tug at his arm. He turned around only to be engulfed by her arms. James smiled into her hair as he returned the embrace. Perhaps in another lifetime they could've been together, but definitely not this one.

"Never say never," he heard her whisper against his skin, "life is too surprising to know all outcomes." She raised her head to look at him and he saw a soft smile on her lips. "We may yet meet again, Mr. Bond, don't be so negative."

James smiled briefly before she kissed him. The kiss was hurried, fierce, and shook him to the core. He was so distracted by it that it was Frankie who ended it by abruptly pushing him away.

"Try and stay out of too much trouble, James." She smiled and James saw tears shimmering in her eyes.

He nodded, "You do the same Frankie."

She gave him a mock salute and he smiled again before turning and hurrying into security. When he looked back she was gone and he was actually thankful that she was.

* * *

Moneypenny met him at the airport and rode with him back to the office. They didn't speak about his time in America, at least not at first. About fifteen minutes into the ride Moneypenny finally turned to face him with the sort of expression that she got only when she wanted to talk about personal things.

"Did you explain things to her or did you lie?"

James smiled slowly, "The thing I like about you Moneypenny is you always expect the worst out of me but still hope for the better."

"Well," she didn't even blink at his comment, "you lied to her didn't you? You tried to make her hate you so you could come back to your life and go on as if nothing had happened between you two."

James clenched his hands into fists, "I don't think that it's any of your business what I said or did with her."

"You're absolutely right, it isn't my business, however I know you, I know what you're capable of, and I just wondered if I should keep an eye on the Atlanta papers for an attempted suicide, or perhaps a successful one." Her eyes were cold and James felt her words slice through his heart like a bullet. He didn't like it when she was quite so candid, but she was nothing compared to M.

He shook his head, "I know for a fact that you won't need to do that. She's made of stronger stuff than that."

Moneypenny sniffed, "I would think so; kidnapping, torture, and you playing nursemaid. Any woman who can do that and be able to write me a pleasant sounding email to let me know you left safely would be made of strong stuff."

James quirked his eyebrows at her and she smiled, "I emailed her first, telling her our apologies for the suddenness of your departure. I knew you would be cold on your parting so I guess I figured I should soften the blow. She replied saying that you had left in good health, though poor spirits, and that you two had a pleasant time together. She also told me to try to keep your ego in check." Moneypenny sighed. "On that last part I don't know if I can do much but I'd like to think I do my best."

"Well," James smiled at her, "I would be the last to say you haven't tried."

Moneypenny shared in his smile then fell silent again. James knew she wanted to ask him more questions and demand more answers but they both knew she wouldn't ask and he wouldn't tell. He didn't feel like telling her the truth about his departure and he was content to be silent and guilty in her eyes. They remained silent for the rest of the ride. She only spoke once more before they entered the office.

"Are you going to keep in touch with her James?"

James didn't look at her, knowing he'd see a light of hope in her eyes that would only serve to make him feel even more like a bastard. He squared his shoulders and clenched his jaw. "No, I'm not. It's better for all those involved, including you, if we just forget about her."

"I whole heartedly agree." They both looked up to see M standing in her doorway with the ever present scowl on her face. "Now if you wouldn't mind sending these faxes right away, Moneypenny, and James, follow me." She handed the papers to Moneypenny then led the way back into her office. After they were seated across from each other, both with a glass of sherry in front of them, she finally looked him directly in the eyes. "How was the flight?"

"Long." He took a sip of his drink then spun the remaining liquid in his glass.

"I'm not going to pussy foot around the situation, Bond. This is a volunteer position but we both know that you aren't cut out for anything else in this world. You have a stone heart and steel blood, both qualities that are necessities in a job like this one. I hope you didn't think you could've been able to settle down and lead out a normal life, because you aren't made for that. You are a killer, Bond, and nothing will ever change that."

Bond wanted to throw his drink in her face, he wanted to break something, scream and shout, all to show her how wrong she was. But he couldn't, wouldn't, do any of that, because in the end she was right. There was nothing in him that he could offer to anyone in regards to a normal life. He would always be shadowed by his work and if he truly cared about someone he wouldn't drag them into the dark, under belly of society with him.

"Do you disagree Bond?" M's voice brought him back from his musings.

He frowned down into his glass, "No, ma'am," he swallowed the last of his drink, thinking it tasted more like ash than anything; "you have no arguments from me."

"Good," she gave the closest thing to a smile that he'd ever seen, "now that we've cleared that up, I think it's time we had our briefing with the rest of the double O's."

Bond set his glass down and followed her back out into the office. It certainly didn't take long to fall back into the old life. It had taken forever to fall out of it and only ten minutes of being back to fall back in it. He figured it would be just as easy for him to seduce another woman and kill another man. He lips curved into a cynical smile as he passed by Moneypenny and saw the hint of disappointment there. All the work Frankie had done, all her hopes, came to nothing after all. He was still a bastard to the core and he supposed he always would be one. Right up until the moment before he died, then he figured, he'd lament his having passed up the opportunities for happiness that life had offered him. But of course, that would only be the split second before death, and not a moment sooner.


	17. The End is the Beginning

**Months Later**

It was over. Yusef had been found and dealt with, and was even now being formally arrested by the pair of agents that hurried into the building after he left.

"Is he dead?" M asked once he was outside.

James shook his head. "No he isn't."

"I'm surprised. You've killed nearly everyone else, why didn't you kill him?"

James began to brush past her, "It's over, and there was no need."

He pulled out Vesper's necklace and tossed it into the snow. It was truly over now. He'd gotten Yusef, he'd faced his bitterness over Vesper, he'd admitted that she had indeed loved him, and now he was ready to move on with life. Perhaps Frankie had given him the strength to do this, or perhaps it had just been the right time to let things go. In any case, he was glad to be rid of the past finally. He let out a deep sigh and looked around. He didn't go very far before he spotted a face that he knew. A face that he'd wanted to mar many times over the course of his past mission. Apparently the face recognized him and the man hurried into the darkness again. James immediately gave chase. A car chase and a few damages later he had Mr. White kneeling below him in the snow, bloodied from his wounds.

"You're going to give me some information and I'll give you a swift death." James pressed his gun harder against White's head.

White snickered, "You won't kill me. Your keepers want me alive."

"They don't know I found you." White's smile dropped at James' words. "And they won't know unless I want them too." He kneeled down to face White more fully. "Now tell me where Haines is."

White scoffed, "You think you can single handedly bring down this organization? They're too big for you, Bond, too big and too powerful. Even if you find Haines, there's always someone bigger."

"I think I can take care of myself. Though thank you for worrying after my safety." Bond sneered at the cowering man before him. "Now tell me what I want to know."

They both knew White would die that night, but the question was whether or not White would cooperate. M was just getting into the car to return to their office when she heard the sound of a single gunshot echo in the night. Somehow she knew it was Bond, but she also knew that he hadn't killed himself. Perhaps…well she wouldn't dawdle over idle wonderings. She dealt with facts, and the facts said that Bond was far from satisfied with his blood lust.

Her assumption was correct. Bond drove away from White's dead body, his face hardened into determination. He punched in the coordinates of Haines estate and immediately made plans to travel there. He had another mission; the end of his old one was just the beginning of this one. Perhaps he'd meet his end on this mission, since Quantum was so large, but it didn't matter anymore. He'd let go of the past. Though he had found his humanity through Frankie he now had to shove his humanity aside while he pursued Quantum. It would be hard, but he wasn't daunted by that fact. After all the end is only the beginning is only the end.


	18. Many Missions Later

_**Many Missions(Years) Later**_

"Do you know what you're going to do now?"

James looked up from where his hands rested in his lap and shrugged, "I don't have any definite plans, no."

"Well," he watched out of the corner of his eye as she tossed her hair over her shoulder, "do you know where you're going to go? I mean you're packed, that much is obvious, but do you have any tickets or reservations?"

She was sitting at a table across the cafe from him, an ear piece hidden behind her hair. It was company policy to have no contact with retired agents and though they were already breaking protocol by being in the same cafe together they were at least playing it safe(er) by not sitting together and by using ear pieces to communicate.

"Moneypenny, you don't need to worry about me. I'll keep you up to date. I'm not about to leave and then find a nice corner to die in. I'm made of stronger stuff than that." James smiled before leaning back in the café chair. "I was thinking of doing some traveling. I don't have any particular place in mind, at least not yet."

He didn't tell her the truth, but he knew that she knew. He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud for fear that if he did then maybe she'd stop him or tell him to go to hell where he really belonged, tell him that he had no right, after all these years, to go **there.**

"That'll be good for you," Moneypenny smiled as she folded up her napkin and set it on the table beside her empty tea cup, "when do you leave?"

James looked at the clock, "My flight leaves in about six hours actually."

"Oh, well I'm glad I at least got to have this little tea time with you before you flew off into the sunset."

Silence fell and James knew she had questions she ached to ask him but either didn't know how to ask, or feared his answers. After a few moments he sighed. "Everything will be fine Moneypenny, you'll see."

She smiled and nodded, "Thank you James." She glanced down at her watch. "Oh dear! Alfred will be so peeved with me if I don't pick up his laundry. Ever since our washing machine went schizo we've had to use the local launders and I keep forgetting to pick up our orders." Moneypenny gathered her things together and stood. "Good luck James, you know I mean that with all my heart."

James nodded, "Thank you Moneypenny, and good luck with Alfred and the launders."

She chuckled before she walked past him and out the door. James closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Pretty soon he'd see her again...

* * *

Now he stood outside the door waiting for **her** to answer. His thoughts raced while he waited. He was ashamed to admit how nervous he actually was. Would she look different than when he'd last seen her? Would she act differently? Had she gotten married or had children? Would she even WANT to see him here on her doorstep after decades of no word from him? What would she say to him—for that matter what would he say? It had been so long…a few lifetimes it seemed. So much had happened to him. He'd been married and widowed; fallen in love and been betrayed numerous times; failed and accomplished missions; killed and been nearly killed; lived on the edge and found himself discontented with life and near everything in it.

James leaned a bit more heavily on his cane as he continued to wait, his knock still echoing in his own ears. It was uncomfortably cold outside, even according to natives of the area, so his leg pained him a bit more so than usual. If it had been an average day he wouldn't have bothered with the cane but today it had been hard enough getting the prosthetic on, let alone wobbling around on it. Where his leg ended below his knee throbbed and ached from the cold, making the prosthetic even more painful and difficult to handle. He supposed he should be grateful to the cane; it might induce her to feel a bit more sympathy for him before she cast him out, if she felt tempted to do so.

He frowned as he knocked again. It wasn't working hours so surely she'd be home, unless of course she'd gone out with a friend. He'd been sorely tempted to use Felix to figure out her current life to protect his own pride in case she was now married. However, he knew he needed to be man enough to face her again after so many years, whether or not she was married. She deserved that, and so much more.

"Excuse me?" James turned and found a somewhat familiar looking young woman standing behind him. "May I help you?"

"Precious?" James swiveled around on his heel to face her more fully.

She tipped her head to the side in scrutiny, "Yes? Do I know you?"

James smiled slightly, "I don't know if you'll remember me but I was a friend of Frankie's years and years ago. I stayed with her after she had that terrible-"

"Oh you!" Precious' eyes widened. "Stay right there!" She turned and disappeared into her own apartment leaving a confused but hopeful James standing alone in the hallway. When she returned she held an envelope in her hand. She had an indescribable expression on her face when she handed it to him then stepped back. She shoved her hands in her pockets and rocked on her toes for a few seconds before she spoke again. "Yeah, not that it's any or my business, but what took you so long to come back?"

James looked up from the slightly aged looking envelop to the young woman, "My job."

Precious looked down at his leg, even though it was hidden by his pant leg it was still fairly obvious that there was something wrong with it. "I take it you were forced to retire?"

James nodded, "Something like that."

"So she wasn't worth enough to you when you weren't crippled?" Precious frowned as her eyes moved from his leg back to his face.

James winced at her words but didn't shy away from them, "At that time in my life I guess I didn't think so. Now that I'm retired, I'm thinking more into the future than I ever did."

"And now you think that you want her to be a part of your crippled future?" Precious scoffed.

"Yes."

Precious cursed under her breath, "What is it with you men and being so damn slow on the uptake?"

"Well," James took a deep breath and slowly let it out through his teeth, "I can't speak for all men but I do know that for my part it was my own pride and fear that kept me from realizing the truth."

"So you readily admit to being a horrible bastard unworthy of even a glance from her?"

James clenched his teeth, "I know she wouldn't ask you to greet me like this so I can only guess that you watched her suffer from my absence and so feel a little vengeance is in order?"

"You would be arrogant enough to think that she suffered." Precious snarled.

James sighed, "So I didn't say that the way I wanted to, sorry."

Precious stared at his face a moment longer before looking back down to his leg, "Did you even hurt it or are you using the cane as a ploy for sympathy?"

"You must really think of me as a monster." James sighed as he used his free hand to lift his pant leg to show the beginnings of metal and plastic of his prosthetic. Precious at least had the grace to wince at the sight and turn her eyes away. "Do you know where she is?"

"Yup."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"I think you'd better read the letter first then ask me that again when your finished, if you're up to it at least."

James felt his stomach drop for a moment, his worst fears coming to mind. He nodded and leaned against the wall for support as he used both hands to open the envelope, cursing himself when he saw that his hands shook slightly.

_Dear James,_

_If you are reading this then that means you came back. Welcome back! Sorry I'm not there to greet you, I'll explain why later on. First off I want to say I'm glad you came back—it's difficult to put into words exactly how happy I am that you came back so I'll just let you imagine, if you want to. __I hope life has treated you well. If it hasn't then I'm sure you beat the hell out of it right back! Maybe by now you are retired from MI6, or maybe not, I don't know but I do care—I always did. In any case I bet you are just fine; you always found a way to be fine._

_Okay, I'll stop jabbering and tell you what I've always wanted to but never had the courage to do so: You know it is difficult going to those places I showed you. They are haunted by us together. I see us, I hear our laughter, and I feel…well what I felt then all over again. Did I make it that easy to walk in and out of my life? I suppose I did…and for that I am both grateful for your happiness and disappointed for my own loneliness. _

_I never wanted to see you unhappy and that's why I let you leave; however, I thought you'd want the same for me and would return someday— perhaps a bit sooner than you have. I suppose it was a test that I gave you without letting you know and for that I'm sorry. It might be frustrating knowing that you failed a test you didn't even know about. I didn't tell you because I knew you'd bring me heartache either staying or going. I've always been luckless in romance and you were no different. I don't regret meeting and loving you; I do regret not telling you though. Did you see that? I said love. Yes, I loved you. I guess it's rather obvious I was willing to sacrifice my love for your happiness, and I'm not saying that to get sympathy, but I want you to know that the love I had for you was the real kind, the "let's grow old and ugly together" kind._

_Now, why am I not there to greet you? I left because I couldn't live here anymore. I got a new job, moved to a new place, and started a new part of my life. I saw no purpose in waiting for someone who wouldn't come back in the lifetime I wanted him to come back in. I don't completely fault you for your own tendencies. And don't feel that I put complete blame for this failed romance all on your shoulders. I know that we both screwed up, mostly me for not being totally open, so rest easy that I don't hold a grudge against you. __I wanted you to know that my heart is still open to you. For all the pain you brought me, I find that I've grown stronger from it and loved you more because of it. In any case, no matter what year it is, or how long it's been, I can guarantee that a part of me still loves you._

_James, I don't know the reasons why you came back but I'll tell you something right now: don't find me unless you mean to stay with me for the rest of your life. I'm serious James; I don't want to go through another goodbye from you. I'd sooner kill you than say goodbye again. On that lovely note I'll end this._

_Much love,_

_Francesca O' Connor_

Precious remained silent while James reread the letter.

"When did she leave this?" James asked once he finished, his eyes not leaving the somewhat wrinkled paper in his hands.

"'Bout four years ago. She's kept in contact with me; I get an email at least once a week from her. She's happy, healthy, and keeps begging me to come visit her and her farm." Precious chuckled, "Well it isn't exactly a farm but she has lots of pets and so she calls it a 'funny farm' for all the mishaps she gets into."

James smiled faintly, just imagining the type of ordeals she'd found herself in. He turned the paper over and continued to stare at the words until his eyes unfocused and all he could see was her image in his mind's eye. Did he want to find her?

"Well," Precious sounded impatient, "are you going to ask me that question again or are you going to scurry on out of here like the yellow dog you were all those years ago?"

"I didn't know people still used idioms like that." James looked up at her with amusement in his eyes.

Precious shrugged, "I have a soft spot for Westerns. I find that insults were put more succinctly and eloquently at that time." She tapped her foot and glared at him, "Well, are you?"

James looked back at the paper in his hands and took a deep breath. He slowly folded it and put it back into the envelope, his mind whirling over the possibilities and consequences of whatever decision he made now. After some time of staring vacantly at the letter he looked up again and smiled.


	19. A Happily Ever After Afterall

He sat in his car and waited. He'd seen Mr. Dodger's son, Gregory, come and go from Frankie's backyard a number of times but still had yet to see Frankie. Mr. Dodger had actually given her his house, written it into his will in fact, and she'd moved into almost immediately after it had been cleared of all the old man's belongings. From what Precious had told him, Frankie was happy. She worked locally, had a dog, a cat, a snake, and two gerbils, and had recently started a vegetable garden to go along with her four fruit trees that Mr. Dodger had planted years before. James wasn't surprised that she had so many animals, or that she was trying her hand at something new. He would've been more surprised if she'd been idly waiting in the house for him to show up. Frankie wasn't one to sit and wait for things, she preferred to be busy while she waited; James remembered her well enough to know that about her.

He glanced down at his watch then back up at the house. It was nearing dinner time. She was home, he knew that from her car sitting in the driveway, but she was working in the backyard. With the sun going down soon, and hunger more than likely growing in her belly, he was sure she'd call it quits within the next hour or so. Unless of course she had stadium lighting for the sole purpose of working at night--he wouldn't be surprised by that either. Gregory walked out of her backyard making James shift in his seat. He watched as the man looked over at his parked car. He looked from the parked car back to Frankie's backyard then back to the car. James couldn't help but wonder if perhaps Mr. Dodger had told Gregory about him, just in case he showed up. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. In either case Gregory didn't dawdle overly long. James watched as the man shrugged before disappearing into his own neighboring house. It was time for James to act.

It took him longer to reach the side of her house than if he'd had two good legs but thankfully it was still light enough to see her when he came around the corner. Frankie wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand as she leaned back to study her handy work. The row she was working on was crooked but she was smiling at it, and both facts made James smile as well. He watched her press a hand to her back, more than likely aching from bending over so long. A few moments later she turned and headed towards a shed near the edge of her property; the opposite direction from James.

He waited until she was tugging the hose towards the garden before he moved. It was dark enough for her not to immediately notice him as he moved in the shadows of the evening, but it was light enough to discern her facial expressions as he neared. He stopped, though, when she again trudged towards the shed, muttering something about kinks in hoses. He smiled as he leaned more heavily on his cane. He could wait. He listened as she gave a cry of delight, probably finding the kink, and watched as a gush of water sprang from the end of the house, effectively drowning the first few plants in her row. She came rushing back, muttering again, quickly picking up the hose and glaring at the damage. He watched her quietly as she watered the rest of her garden, admiring the simple beauty that the picture made.

James couldn't believe she had actually grown more beautiful since he'd last seen her all those years ago. When he'd first seen her, he'd seen a woman in need of rescue then later as a friend, but all the time he'd seen an average looking woman, not ugly but not strikingly beautiful, more likely cute or pretty. Now, however, living in the country must've done something to her, because Frankie was downright gorgeous. Her once pale face had a rosey tint to it, her scars having faded slightly against her skin, and her eyes sparkling in the evening light. She was still average height and build(that wasn't likely to change). Her hair was longer and braided down her back with some wind swept bangs framing her flushed face. She wore a plain white t-shirt, now grimy from her work, and slightly baggy jeans, equally dirty. To him, she looked absolutely amazing!

She moved from the garden, taking the hose with her, and went back around the shed. James moved then. He walked closer to the shed, being careful to avoid the damp ground as he didn't exactly want to greet her after landing on his arse. He must've moved more quickly, and silently, than even he anticipated because they were both taken by surprise when she came around the corner of the shed and smacked right into him. He reached out with his good arm when she started to fall backwards while she reached forward with both arms, getting a good hold of his oxford and ripping a number of buttons off before she righted herself using her arms and his for support. Once she was settled on her own two feet again, her face turned up towards his, he expected her to say something. However, neither said anything for a few moments, his hand still on her upper arms, her hands still pressed against his chest to brace herself. Then almost as suddenly as he appeared and caught her, she cleared her throat and stepped back. He let go of her easily enough, but he didn't want to.

"I heard you were dead." He saw sadness in her eyes, as well as a hope that he knew she was trying to keep in check.

"It was a stunt my office had to pull to cover my tracks for a mission."

She nodded but said nothing more for a few moments in order to regain her composure, "I see Precious told you my address."

James nodded, a small smile on his face, "Yes she did, only after cutting me down to size."

"Oh no!" Frankie covered her mouth. "I'm so sorry James! I didn't tell her-"

"I know Frankie," James reached out and smoothed away the frown from her forehead, "you'd never tell her to do that. She, however, felt the driving need to remind me of how much of a bastard I was to leave you hanging for so many years." He chuckled and tapped his cane against his prosthetic. "She even accused me of using my cane as a sympathy winner!"

Frankie looked down and gasped when she saw his leg. She felt tears sting her eyes and she did her best not to shed them when she looked back up to his face. He, however, noticed them and felt his throat tighten at the sight. He didn't want her to feel that she was worthwhile only now that he was crippled. He didn't want her to think that he only wanted her now that he was broken, quite literally.

"What happened?"

James shrugged, "I should've expected it actually but I looked away at a very important moment and ended up getting caught in the explosion from a car bomb on one of my last missions. The doctors said they couldn't save the leg and at that moment in time I could've cared less."

"Why?" Frankie frowned as she looked from his face back down to his absent leg.

"I'd lost my life long before that happened."

Frankie looked back up to his face, "What do you mean?"

"I mean I kept living on the edge, pushing myself further and further, taking on more missions than any other agent, growing colder and colder, seeking out the most dangerous of situations just to spark something inside me that seemed dead." James sighed and shook his head. "However, no matter what I did I couldn't find it."

"Find what?" he heard that hope in her voice and he felt his stomach clench at it.

Her question was valid, and he knew he needed to answer it, but with his answer he'd be laying himself bare before her. Despite her assurances of accepting him if he found her in the letter he still felt vulnerable. He didn't want to be rejected, no one did actually, but he most especially didn't want to be cast aside by her. She was one of the reasons why he'd made it through physical therapy after the accident, one of the reasons he hadn't fallen into a drunken stupor after being honorably discharged. If she cast him aside now...he'd have nothing left. James shifted his weight nervously, "I couldn't find the spark of life that I'd felt when I was with you."

Frankie suddenly looked down at her feet for a moment before looking back to his face. "Did Precious give you my letter?"

James didn't say anything. His features changed from apologetic regret to something much different, something he'd wanted to show her so many times but couldn't given the situation and time. he finally let her see the desire, not just physical desire, but a desire rooted in mutual admiration and devotion, that he felt for her. He saw his own feelings mirrored in her eyes once she understood what he was showing her. He didn't need to say anything, they both knew that then, but he did do something. He limped closer, wrapping his free arm around her waist again and pulled her against his chest. For her part she wrapped her arms up around his neck and allowed him to take charge. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her chin. Then when he felt the warmth of her tears, he kissed them away, making her smile. When he pulled back and looked down at her they both were smiling softly.

"So this is for keeps then?" She ventured to ask, already knowing that he wouldn't have come if it had been otherwise.

James nodded, "Definitely."

"Good. I need some help with this bloody vegetable garden." She grinned at him, her old mischief apparent. "It seems I can't keep my rows straight."

"I noticed that." James chuckled softly before leaning down and gently brushing his lips against hers. "I'll see what I can do."

"Well while you're at that," she looked past him at her yard, "I've been meaning to paint my shutters but haven't quite had the time. Do you think yo-"

He silenced her with a kiss. It was an unhurried kiss, filled with love and the promise of a long life of happiness. After many painful years of fooling himself into thinking adrenaline and danger were what made him feel complete, James had finally found what really did complete him. James was definitely ready to live happily ever after, and Frankie deserved that and much more.


End file.
